


chasing promises

by amaranthskies



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Bumbleby - Freeform, Childhood Friends, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Literary References & Allusions, Minor Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus, Mutual Pining, References to Canon, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, a lot of fairytale nicknames as reference to RWBY origins, adam taurus more like adam taurASS, blake likes books and justice, excessive use of fire metaphors, some bad decisions are made but all is good in the end, yang's smile can blind a person ten miles away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaranthskies/pseuds/amaranthskies
Summary: Yang's all burning embers and reckless smiles, and Blake knows that the girl with a too-bright smile will be her downfall, that touching Yang will leave her broken with half-kept promises lingering bitter on her lips.Blake's drawn to fire, and Yang makes her burn from the inside out.I promise, she says, and she can't take it back.





	1. 2 years, 5 months, 17 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve been trying to make you smile,” Yang said simply, and the bluntness of the statement sent an electric shock to Blake’s core. “You don’t do it often.”
> 
> Of course, that made Blake frown up at Yang, who stared back at her with a smirk on her lips. “And why is not smiling often a bad thing?”
> 
> Yang’s shoulders moved in a shrug. “You look pretty when you do it,” she replied, and _oh._ Now it felt like someone _reached_ into Blake’s chest, pressed something warm against it, the heat flaring through her insides.

_2 years, 5 months, 17 days before:_

 

“What’s your name?”

Blake looked up from her story, warily watching the girl that stood above her. She had a wide smile, cheery and bright, and Blake had a rule that people who smiled like that were generally trustworthy.

“I’m Blake.” She folded the book carefully in her hands and scrutinized the girl. “And you are?”

“Name’s Yang,” the girl replied easily. She had wild, gold hair, tumbling down her waist like a waterfall of sunlight. “You like reading, right? Everytime I see you, your nose is buried in a book.”

“Well, reading is… fun,” Blake said slowly, processing her words. Everything about the girl - Yang - was blinding and fast; like an arm wound for a punch, a grin teetering on the point of a feral scowl or a bout of laughter.

Yang tilted her head, and Blake was suddenly afraid she’d look confused, startled - or worse, _disgusted_ \- when she _laughed._ The sound was clear and mirthful, better than ten of her smiles rolled into a sound. “That’s one way to describe it,” she said gently, but her eyes were still shining.

Blake nodded thoughtfully, and Yang dropped down to sit next to her. They were both crammed into the small bench, Yang pressed up against Blake’s side, and Blake fought the urge to tense as Yang leaned over her shoulder to check what she was reading.

“Beauty and the Beast?” Yang squinted at the pages. “Isn’t that a… fairytale?”

“It’s a good story,” Blake quietly defended her book. Yang flashed her bright grin again and raised her hands in supplication.

“If it’s worth anything,” Yang said thoughtfully, “My favorite fairytale was Goldilocks. She _looked_ for the adventure; but if I was in her spot, I would’ve fought all the bears.”

“What if they weren’t going to eat you?” Blake asked curiously, interest sparking in her despite herself. _Yang liked fairytales?_

Yang shrugged. “Then I would’ve eaten porridge with them.”

That brought a smile out of Blake, and Yang stood up. _“Aha,”_ she declared gleefully, grinning and pointing at Blake. _“There_ it is!”

“There - what?”

“I’ve been trying to make you smile,” Yang said simply, and the bluntness of the statement sent an electric shock to Blake’s core. “You don’t do it often.”

Of course, that made Blake frown up at Yang, who stared back at her with a smirk on her lips. “And why is not smiling often a bad thing?”

Yang’s shoulders moved in a shrug. “You look pretty when you do it,” she replied, and _oh._ Now it felt like someone _reached_ into Blake’s chest, pressed something warm against it, the heat flaring through her insides.

Blake ducked her head. “Thank - thank you.”

Yang cleared her throat, a bit awkwardly, like she didn’t expect herself to say such a brash thing. But the moment passed, and Yang asked, “Friends?”

“I - what?”

“I want to be friends with you,” Yang said cheerfully, planting her hands on her hips. “You’re really cool, maybe _somewhat_ aloof, but that just adds to your charm.” She flashed a wink and again, Blake was left with nothing to say. “So, wanna take me up on my offer?”

Blake carefully closed her book and studied Yang. She noted the scraped knees, the coiled energy, the roaring fire pounding within this girl’s eyes. Blake could see the calloused fingers of someone always looking for another adventure, the daring grin of a soul that lived for every moment and burned through those that stood in her path.

Blake looked into the lilac irises of a girl that would surely flame so bright with glory it would blind Blake’s own eyes, and promised, “Yes.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yang, your smile is so bright you blinded blake with it


	2. 2 years, 23 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake looks at Yang, watches her as she jokes with her sister and moves her hands in animated gestures as she talks, and it takes her a moment before she notices Yang is watching her, too.

 

_2 years, 23 days before:_

 

“You’re coming to my house tonight, yeah?”

Blake flicked her eyes over to where Yang was bouncing on the edge of her seat, not paying attention to anything the teacher was saying.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Now focus on the board; you’ll miss the lecture.”

Yang rolled her eyes, lilac irises flashing briefly. “Come on, you can’t blame me for being excited,” she whispered cheerfully. “It’s the first time you’re coming over to my home. You’ll finally get to meet my little sister; my dog -”

“Dog? You never mentioned a dog,” Blake murmured back, feeling a sense of trepidation.

Yang flashed her trademark grin. “He doesn’t bite, Beauty.”

Blake felt a spike of warmth go through her at the mention of the nickname; a long-running joke between them, based on their favorite fairytales.

“Speak for yourself, _Goldilocks,_ ” she shot back, and Yang laughed at that, a bright, clear sound that Blake never grew tired of hearing.

“Miss Xiao Long!” Professor Port called from the front of the room. “Do you have something to say?”

Yang leaned back precariously in her seat, smiling widely at the professor. “No, sir,” she said, and her face was the picture of innocence, laughing and carefree, easily masking the burning fire underneath.

Professor Port shook his head, and Blake hid her smile behind her book.

Yang Xiao Long could be _very_ charismatic when she wanted to.

-

“This is my half-sister, Ruby,” Yang announced, gesturing towards the girl in front of Blake.

Yang’s sister was swallowed up in a large hoodie, the fabric a startlingly bright crimson that immediately reminded Blake of _Little Red Riding Hood_. She bounded forward and grabbed Blake’s hand, pumping it up and down with excitement.

“You must be Blake! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Ruby said with delight, still shaking Blake’s hand. “Yang won’t shut up about you when she gets home. It’s always _Blake this, Blake that, Blake’s reading this new book and it’s actually really good,_ blah blah blah.”

“Um -” Ruby had finally let go of Blake’s hand, and she shook it out gingerly. When Blake looked over at Yang, Yang was… _blushing?_

“Alright, Rubes, you’ve annoyed her enough,” Yang said lightly, shoving Ruby towards the stairs. “Go continue listening to music or whatever you do in the afternoons.”

“Geez, alright, alright.” Ruby made her way towards the stairs, silver eyes shining with mirth as they looked between Yang and Blake. “Stay away from my cookie jar!”

“No promises,” Yang called after Ruby, who stuck her tongue out at Yang before dashing up the steps to her room.

Blake looks at Yang, watches her as she jokes with her sister and moves her hands in animated gestures as she talks, and it takes her a moment before she notices Yang is watching her, too.

-

They end up rewatching an old rerun of a TV show, on the flickering screen - Yang had dumped a pile of blankets and pillows onto the floor and promptly flopped onto it, laughing at Blake when she curled herself into the soft mess like a cat.

“Look at you,” Yang said, smiling, “You’re practically purring.”

“I’m not,” Blake retorted, but shifted so she was more comfortable in her nest of blankets. “Shut up and let me watch the show in peace.”

Yang huffed but sat back, and they continued watching in companionable silence.

A few moments later, Blake felt the lightest of touches on the back of her neck, and she froze. Turning, she looked over at Yang, whose hand was hovering midair, and was wearing a similar look of shock.

“Sorry, Blake,” Yang murmured, her hand dropping. “You had a knot in your hair.”

Blake nodded minutely, not trusting herself to say anything. She turned her attention back to the TV, trying to stay focused on the moving pictures and not the thundering beat of her heart.

So she barely refrained from jumping when soft strokes started running through her hair. Nobody had touched Blake so intimately before - at least, nobody besides her parents - and the movements sent shivers through her body as Yang tangled her fingers in Blake’s locks.

“You have nice hair, Beauty,” Yang murmured, and her voice was low and thick and _damnit,_ Blake needed to stay _focused_ on the show and not how close Yang was to her.

She shrugged. “Not as nice as yours, Goldilocks.”

That earned a laugh from Yang, the sound like melted gold.

-

It was late at night when Yang started murmuring in her sleep.

Blake had always been a light sleeper; this time was no different. She propped herself over the sleeping girl, let her eyes adjust to the dim light.

Mauve shadows cast a strange look to Yang’s face - the hollows of her throat and circles underneath her eyes were more pronounced, face dappled with light that made her look ethereal and inhuman, like a beast out of a fairytale.

It took her a few moments to discern what Yang was saying, Blake was so focused on the delicate, unfettered beauty that dusted the girl’s eyelashes, shone on her skin.

“Mom,” Yang whispered, her voice heartachingly broken and young, “Mom, please, don’t leave me -”

Blake’s heart rose in her throat and she briefly considered turning over, attempt to go back to sleep - she didn’t want to infringe on Yang’s privacy.

But Yang made another soft, pained sound, like someone had reached through her chest and ripped through the very core of what she was, and Blake couldn’t leave her alone like this.

Blake shook Yang’s shoulder gently. “Yang?”

Yang’s eyes flashed open, lilac irises wide and dazed. When she saw Blake, her breath hitched and she reached for the other girl, wrapping her arms around Blake and burying her face in her chest.

Blake sat still, unsure of what to do. When Yang’s grip on her arms tightened, she carefully reached up and stroked Yang’s wild mane of gold curls. “Yang, are you okay?”

“Stay, Blake,” Yang said, her voice muffled through Blake’s shirt, but words still discernible. “Blake, please promise me you’ll stay.”

Blake wasn’t sure when Yang had fallen back asleep, her fingers still twisted harshly in Blake’s shirt. But she still whispered, “I’ll always stay with you, Goldilocks.”

And they woke up still entangled together, Yang’s nose and cheek pressed up against Blake’s torso, Blake’s forehead resting against the blonde’s head, their ankles crossed and legs wrapped around each other.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ruby's silver eyes of power see ALL and she ships it


	3. 1 year, 11 months, 8 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Also, you’ve been hanging out with that new kid all the time,” Ruby piped from Blake’s other side, having suddenly materialized there. Blake barely refrained from flinching; Ruby was _fast_. “What’s his name? Adler?”
> 
> “His name’s Adam, pipsqueak,” Yang said gently, shaking her head at Ruby, “And Blake’s dating him.”

_1 year, 11 months, 8 days before:_

 

There was a new boy in school, and he radiated the same heat that burned inside of Yang.

But unlike Yang’s, his was manageable, a steady warmth compared to the blinding, radiant fireworks that burst from Yang’s lungs.

His name was Adam, and he had pale skin that were marked over with scars, and Blake found herself drawn to them; shyly watching from a distance, then mapping them out, tales of pain and courage and the drive that sparked revolutions.

She’d ran her hands through his hair, red strands the color of velvet and crimson, and his words were gentle and persuasive and tasted just as sweet as they sounded.

If she was Beauty, he completed her fairytale - he was the Beast, something strange and from a different land, harsh around the edges but soft only with Blake.

Blake still craved fire; pulled to the wildness and beauty of those who knew they couldn’t be tamed by society’s restraints, but she found it in Adam. He spoke to her about the future they would make; how they would eradicate poverty and give everybody equal amounts of riches, and that they would tear down this unequal government and rebuild a new one.

“We’re going to build a new world, my love,” Adam would say, drawing Blake into his arms and kissing the inside of her wrist, “And it’s going to be a paradise for all children to come.”

Blake had to laugh at his soaring dreams; they seemed so high and far away in the sky, out of reach like a bright balloon let loose by the wind. Still, she humored him.

“I’ll be by your side, Adam.”

“Will you?” He pulled away and stared into her eyes, wide and earnest. “Will you stand with me, rain and turmoil, and help me fix this world?”

“I’ll help you make the world a better place,” Blake promised.

When she leaned to kiss him, the heat from his heart always warmed her limbs, brushing her fingertips when she leaned to lock her arms around his neck.

Sparks burned behind her eyelids when she kissed Adam, his mouth like a furnace, pushing past her barriers to set her heart aflame. The colors and the emotions that ran through her were bright, vermilion like a proud banner, gold like the fringes of sunlight caught on blond hair -

_Yang’s hair -_

Blake cut off the thought sharply. _Why was she thinking of Yang, when her mind should be filled with Adam?_

She didn’t see Yang as often, which set a twinge through her heart, but she was past childhood hopes. Setting herself as close to a fire like Adam was risk enough for Blake; she didn’t need the extra spark to set herself aflame.

Still, she and Yang were just as close as when they were younger, and this time was no exception. Even Adam knew better than to intrude on their bond, although Blake noticed the almost imperceptible possessiveness that hovered around him whenever Yang was nearby.

It irked her, that he thought she needed protection.

-

“Blake!” Yang called as she barrelled through the crowd.

“I - _oof!”_ Blake let out a surprised grunt as Yang collided head-on with Blake, wrapping her arms around Blake’s torso and lifting her precariously in the air.

“I haven’t seen you in _forever,_ ” Yang said lightly after she set Blake down. Blake was still gripping Yang’s shoulder for support - the world still whirling around her knees.

“Yang, it’s been a week,” Blake replied, suddenly realizing she was still holding Yang’s arm and releasing her hold. “We also have different classes this year.”

“Also, you’ve been hanging out with that new kid all the time,” Ruby piped from Blake’s other side, having suddenly materialized there. Blake barely refrained from flinching; Ruby was _fast._ “What’s his name? Adler?”

“His name’s Adam, pipsqueak,” Yang said gently, shaking her head at Ruby, “And Blake’s dating him.”

Blake couldn’t keep the startled gasp inside. “How do you know?”

Yang actually _blushed_ and looked at the ground. “Adam’s friend, Cinder? She’s the one that’s at the center of the gossip at school. She must’ve seen you two and it’s been spreading around school.”

Blake groaned and put her head in her hands. Ruby carefully put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Blake,” she said, her silver eyes going wide. “It’s not that bad. I’m sure he’s nice.”

“He is,” Blake murmured, and she couldn’t stop the warmth from spreading through her heart, the color of Adam’s hair, his hands.

She peeked over at Yang, whose face had fallen for a split second at Blake’s statement - looking almost crushed, terrified - before morphing back into her usual cheer and good nature.

“He’d better be high quality, to deserve someone like you,” she joked, and Blake could still see the fire burning in her eyes, undampened.

Still, Yang’s earlier look led Blake to say softly, “You know, this doesn’t change anything between us. We’re still best friends. Adam isn’t going to replace our friendship, Goldilocks.”

Yang started at Blake’s words, her eyes falling into a strange sort of fondness as she watched Blake. It was soft and gentle, the type of care Blake had seen only a few times in Yang’s gestures, a candle to the usual inferno.

It was still fire, though, when Yang said, “I know, Beauty.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fire metaphor here, a fire metaphor there, fire metaphors everywhere


	4. 1 year, 6 months, 9 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby huffed, knocking her shoulder into Weiss’s side, earning a surprised _oof_ from the girl. Blake hid a smile - Yang also liked using nudges to get her friends’ attention, and it was clear Ruby had inherited the movement from her sister.
> 
> “Anyways, Blake, Yang wanted to know if you were coming to the dance,” Ruby said cheerfully.
> 
> “Really?” Blake couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “Why didn’t she ask me herself?”

  _1 year, 6 months, 9 days before:_

 

“Are you Blake Belladonna?”

Blake turned at the strange voice, eyebrows raising. Behind her was a girl with pale skin and hair the color of frost tied away from her face neatly, hanging down her back.

“My name’s Weiss Schnee,” the girl said formally, extending her hand. After a puzzled moment, Blake reached out and took it. The girl’s skin was cool to the touch, and Blake sensed a radiating power from her - not untamed like Yang’s, or innocent like Ruby’s - but a quiet, noble strength, like a glacier sleeping underneath hills of lacy snow.

“Just call me Blake,” Blake said awkwardly, wincing at the formality.

“I see,” the girl - Weiss - said after a moment. “I’m a friend of Ruby Rose. She sent me to -”

“Weiss!” Ruby called, appearing in Blake’s field of vision, glaring at the white-haired girl. “I wanted to tell Blake, myself!”

“Seeing as you were distracted by your dog, I thought I’d take the privilege,” Weiss replied coolly, but there was a small light in her eyes that betrayed her cold facade.

Ruby huffed, knocking her shoulder into Weiss’s side, earning a surprised _oof_ from the girl. Blake hid a smile - Yang also liked using nudges to get her friends’ attention, and it was clear Ruby had inherited the movement from her sister.

“Anyways, Blake, Yang wanted to know if you were coming to the dance,” Ruby said cheerfully.

“Really?” Blake couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “Why didn’t she ask me herself?”

Ruby paled surprisingly, silver eyes blinking, and Weiss huffed a sigh - Blake caught the words _“you dolt”_ muttered underneath her breath - before replying, “She’s busy setting up the gym right now, henceforth the dance.”

“Oh,” Blake murmured. “I’m not sure if I’m going, though.” She gave a small shrug and a smile. “Dances aren’t really my thing.”

Too many bright lights, emotions running high. Moving bodies that flashed like neon lights, danger and excitement and longing waiting around every corner, so many things to get drunk and high on without touching a drop of alcohol.

But there was something more. Adam had relayed his first mission to Blake - protesting outside a huge facility run by the government, demanding equal rights for everybody. It was nerve-wracking and thrilling to Blake, but she worried over if she was doing the right thing.

_Was there an easier way?_

Adam had more followers working for his cause - a burly young man named Hazel who had a deep, gruff voice; Cinder, whose mouth was just as sharp as her eyes; Emerald and Mercury, the two well-known troublemakers of the school.

Blake didn’t trust any of them, except for Adam.

_Will this work?_

She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted; especially at a party, where tongues loosened and missions were forgotten.

Ruby’s face fell in disappointment. “But, Blake,” Ruby pleaded, “It’ll be so much fun!”

“We’ll tell Yang,” Weiss said smoothly. She flashed a look at Blake that was confusing - piercing and knowing and sympathetic. “She was looking forward to having her best friend at the dance,” she added, and something inside Blake tensed.

Blake simply nodded, though, and watched the two girls walk off, Ruby whispering to Weiss agitatedly, her short, dark hair brushing the edges of her hoodie, the paler girl nodding, heads bent together like they were conspiring.

-

“Blake!”

Blake turned sharply, looking for the source of the noise. It came from the open door of an empty classroom, and just as Blake took a step towards it, a hand extended from the doorway and yanked Blake through.

Blake pushed her hair out of her eyes, mouth dropping open in surprise as she saw who it was. “Yang?”

Yang smiled, her lilac eyes soft. “How are you doing?”

“I -” Blake nearly broke, confessed her fears about Adam’s organization, but at the last moment she held her tongue.

She knew the distrust in Adam’s eyes as he eyed Yang, and she didn’t want to incur his wrath if she told Yang their plans.

But this was _Yang._ Her best friend for nearly a year, her closest confidant, the brightest fire Blake had ever seen, with sparks that rivaled Adam’s.

“You’ve been really stressed lately,” Yang continued calmly, “As _your_ best friend, it’s _my_ duty to check up on you, Beauty.” She bumped Blake’s shoulder with her own, and Blake felt some of her tension seeping away at that simple touch.

“I - I have a big project due soon,” Blake murmured, wincing at the small lie. “I’ve been worried about what will happen. What if I mess it up? What if my partner messes it up?”

Yang frowned. “Well, as my uncle Qrow always says, sometimes you just gotta _wing it._ ” She snickered at the pun, and Blake attempted a weak smile.

“It’s just… I have a lot of misgivings about this project.”

“Is that why you’re not going to the dance?” Yang asked quietly.

Blake averted her eyes. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in Yang’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Yang shrugged. “You know, work is important. You’re smart as hell and, honestly, I’m sure it’s going to work out because of you.

“But don’t work yourself too hard, Blake. If you’re feeling stressed, remember to unwind. You may be a superstar, but even _you_ need to take a break sometimes. Believe me, I know. It’ll always be waiting for you when you’re ready to work again.”

“I -” Blake was startled. Nobody, not even Adam, had said something so sweet to her. “Thank you, Yang.”

Yang smiled faintly. “You know, I was going to -” she broke off, and looked away, avoiding Blake’s gaze.

“Going to what?” Blake asked curiously.

“It’s nothing,” Yang said quickly. Her face melted into another fond look, this time directed at Blake. “Be happy, Beauty. That’s all I ask.”

Blake swallowed hard. In that instant, she was blinded with all the things she knew about Yang - the way her eyes shone when she talked about something she was passionate about, the small tilt to her chin and the way her smile curled her lips, like a small sliver of gold.

It hit her, in that moment - how _beautiful_ Yang Xiao Long was. Not just her body, her face - but the bright, fiery soul that pulsed inside her chest.

She owed Yang Xiao Long her happiness, and if she could do anything to make Yang smile, she would.

“Thank you, Yang,” Blake whispered, and Yang’s face broke into a beatific smile before pulling her into an embrace.

-

Blake wished she could capture the look on Yang’s face when she arrived at the dance. Shocked and a bit hopeful, all mixed with the same warmth that was ever present in her eyes.

Blake tugged nervously at the edge of her dress - a lavender and cream thing she had picked up at a thrift shop a few hours before. _Am I really ready for this?_

And then Yang was standing in front of her, making Blake’s throat burn for reasons she didn’t know, wearing gold and vermilion that set her hair aflame. “Blake,” she breathed, her eyes focused only in the girl in front of her.

Blake blushed under Yang’s scrutiny and sudden speechlessness. “You, Yang Xiao Long,” she murmured, “Definitely have a way with words.”

Yang laughed easily, reaching out to take Blake’s hands. “What can I say? I convinced the prettiest girl in the school to come to the dance.” She winked, her comment clearly in jest, but it was Blake’s turn to have her breath stolen.

“Hey, you two,” Ruby said cheerfully, appearing next to Blake and Yang. Blake found her hands sadly light and empty as Yang relinquished her hold, turning to see the girl dressed in scarlet standing next to them. “Are we going to dance or what?”

“Patience, Rubes,” Yang said mildly. “Where’s Weiss?”

Ruby rolled her eyes, wobbling in her high heels. “Chatting up Neptune, I think.” As an afterthought, she added, “I should probably check on her and see if she can help me balance in these stupid shoes. I swear, this is gonna be the _last_ time I wear high heels. Ever. In my life.”

“You go do that.” Yang rolled her eyes fondly at her little sister, who was unsteadily making her way to the white-haired girl.

“Maybe I can burn them in the backyard,” Ruby called cheerfully as a parting reply, weaving through the dancing couples to leave Blake and Yang alone.

The two girls were standing in the center of the room. Students swirled around them, parting around the two girls like water past stones. The dim lighting and bright colors turned Yang’s face into a flickering mask, eyes flashing like semi-precious stones.

“Blake,” Yang whispered, her voice rough from an emotion Blake couldn’t discern; “Thank you for coming.”

Blake fought a rising lump in her throat. “I promised you I’d do what makes me happy,” she replied, trying to aim for a light mood. “And I guess that means standing here in the middle of a dance floor - which, by the way, I’m not _actually_ dancing yet.”

“We should fix that,” Yang replied brightly. The daring grin, twisting her lips in a promise of wild recklessness, was back on her face, and sent shivers racing down Blake’s spine. Yang dropped into a mock bow, her arms spread open, lilac irises watching Blake through pale eyelashes.

“Blake Belladonna,” Yang intoned, “Will you have the honor of being my first dance of the night?”

Blake mustered all the courage she had, the fire sparking behind her ribcage, until she felt it burn behind her eyes. “Yeah,” she murmured, “I’d love to.”

Yang’s face broke into a grin, that dangerous, triumphant look lingering on the edges, and before Blake could say anything more Yang was holding Blake’s wrist, tugging her forwards and into the music.

They went back and forth - Blake stepped back, Yang followed. Every time Yang’s hands left her wrists they always returned, somehow always finding a way to hold onto Blake.

Blake felt herself become loose - feet moving, fingers brushing, easy to let go underneath the pounding beat of music.

The song ended too quickly - Blake and Yang separated, dropping into separate positions across from each other. Yang caught Blake’s eye, and she was laughing; so was Blake, and she felt fireworks explode in her chest unlike any other heat she’d felt before.

It was dangerous; deadly even, but for once Blake didn’t push away the feeling. Instead, she embraced it; tucked it away in a pocket behind her ribcage, next to her heart, where she could take it out and feel the warmth another day.

“You’d better not forget this, Goldilocks,” Blake whispered breathlessly.

“I could never, Beauty,” Yang replied, and it sounded almost like a promise.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> confirmed; yang xiao long is part firecracker


	5. 9 months, 13 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As I was _saying_ ,” Cinder purred, folding her arms neatly, “We need a more direct approach. Something that will prove our point, _irrevocably_.”
> 
> Something in Blake tensed at the word, but she swallowed down her warning. The words knocked against her lips, made her feel nauseous.
> 
> “And what is your plan?” Adam asked, a hard glint in his eye.
> 
> Cinder smiled, a poisonous curl of her lips. “Tomorrow night. If they don’t respond to our protests, we break in and leave a message in a more _permanent_ way.”

_ 9 months, 13 days before: _

****

Blake is standing outside the smooth metal and glass walls of a building run by a company known for cutting workers’ pay whenever the manager was the tiniest bit displeased, hands clutching a faded sign and throat hoarse from shouting. 

“No use, love.” It was Adam, and he was standing next to her, carrying his own poster. It was emblazoned with angry words, calling for justice. “They didn’t listen.”

“I don’t understand why we’re even here,” Mercury whined. He had crumpled up his sign and was now kicking it vengefully across the curb. “It’s not like any official is going to get off their high horse and actually  _ listen  _ to us. This is all just a waste of time.”

Adam glanced over, his lip curling. The look sent a tingling fear down Blake’s spine - she’d been seeing it more and more as Adam had become more and more driven to proving his point.  “We’ve tried everything,” he snapped. “Marching outside, waving our banners - hell, we skipped school for a whole  _ week  _ to stand outside this building, night and day. What  _ else _ do you think we’re capable of?”

“Perhaps we could try a new plan of action,” Cinder said smoothly, her voice carrying a thinly veiled menace and glee. “Maybe we’re not proving our point well enough.”

Adam glanced over, curiosity sparking in his eyes. A warning was on the tip of Blake’s tongue, tasting bitter - she didn’t voice it, knowing Adam would only ignore her protests.

_ You’re too paranoid,  _ he’d say, laughing.  _ What, Blake, don’t you trust me? _

_ We need all the strength we can get.  _

Blake pushed aside her definition of _strength_ - gold hair and wide eyes and fiery words - and placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Adam,” she said softly, “Be careful.”

Faint disbelief and amusement flickered in his eyes. “Blake,” he murmured, “You don’t trust your own friends?”

Blake gave the tiniest shake of her head. “I just don’t want anyone to be hurt.”

Adam gently rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’d never hurt you,” he replied sweetly, “But our mission is important, and I will do  _ anything  _ to make our dreams come true.”

Mercury wolf-whistled from the side of the street. “Are you two lovebirds done? We actually have shit to do, so stop  _ flirting  _ already.”

Adam turned, snarling, his face flaring briefly into a furious mask. Blake was thankful that the look wasn’t directed at  _ her  _ \- it was enough to turn anybody’s blood to ice. “Nobody speaks to me and Blake that way,” he said dangerously, all choking smoke and crackling firewood, and Mercury actually took a step back. “Do you hear me?”

“Adam, calm yourself,” Hazel rumbled. He didn’t usually speak, just stood apart from the group, an everpresent force. Still, he was as dedicated as the rest of the team - even  _ more  _ so than some, except for Adam himself. 

“As I was  _ saying, _ ” Cinder purred, folding her arms neatly, “We need a more direct approach. Something that will prove our point,  _ irrevocably. _ ”

Something in Blake tensed at the word, but she swallowed down her warning. The words knocked against her lips, made her feel nauseous.

“And what is your plan?” Adam asked, a hard glint in his eye.

Cinder smiled, a poisonous curl of her lips. “Tomorrow night. If they don’t respond to our protests, we break in and leave a message in a more  _ permanent  _ way.”

Blake felt the statement like a punch to the gut. Dimly, through the roaring in her ears, she heard Adam say, “Violence? Why must we resort to that?”

“It’s a good plan,” Emerald said, quickly coming to Cinder’s defense. “It’s just going to be a simple message. Nothing too big. Besides, it’s not like they don’t have enough  _ money  _ to clean up one tiny mess.”

“I agree with Cinder,” Hazel growled. “Let them have a taste of their own medicine.”

Mercury was nodding sagely, and desperately Blake turned to Adam. “This isn’t what we had in mind, Adam.”

Adam placed a hand underneath Blake’s chin, tilting her face up so he could look her in the eyes. “Blake,” he murmured, “This is for the best. You  _ do  _ want to see our dreams come true, right?”

“I -” Blake started, but Adam kissed her swiftly before she could make a reply, his mouth cool and soft underneath hers. Blake melted into the kiss, hands reaching up to twine in his hair, that same familiar thrill pulsing through her veins.

Adam pulled away, a strange look on his face. It was almost calculating, but there was a satisfied smile on his lips as he surveyed Blake.

“You and me, love,” Adam whispered, “Are going to change the world.”

And Blake believed him. 

-

It was dark when they stepped into the huge building.

Each one of them had donned a mask - white, jagged at the edges, and inlaid with red streaks. Blake found it hard to look at her comrades - if  _ that  _ was what they could be called - the masks made them look grotesque, grim, like a twisted sort of monster.

Blake hoped she didn’t run into any mirrors, because she would probably flinch at the sight of her own reflection.

Mercury hoisted the bag over his shoulder. It was filled with cans of spray paint, Cinder had reassured them. 

_ This should take ten minutes. _

Emerald had somehow gotten the locked door to open with a flick of her wrist, something silver and sharp disappearing into her sleeve. Together, they strolled into the building, easy and unhurried.

Fear and trepidation was building in Blake’s throat, making her breaths come in short, ragged inhales. She wanted nothing more than to flee, to run, but -

_ Adam.  _ He was walking in front of her, his footsteps sure and gaze confident, radiating a burning sort of energy that said,  _ if you stand in my way, I shall burn down your dreams. _

Blake couldn’t back out, not now.

Adam strolled easily into the main headquarters, pulling out a can of spray paint and tossing it to Blake. “There’s a gallery to your left,” he said gruffly, “Filled with portraits of the corporate workers.”

Blake nodded minutely, fingers closing around the can. She ducked to the side, standing in the business room, paintings of steely-eyed individuals watching her.

She wandered aimlessly around the room - dimly, she could hear a faint cheer resonating through the building. It sounded chilling, laughter bordering on the edge of hysterical. Blake felt the weight of the spray paint in her hand like a thousand pounds of marble, cold and heavy, resting on her chest like a brand.

She stopped in front of a particularly judgemental portrait - it was of a man, with high cheekbones and perfectly coiffed white hair. It wasn’t the rich suit he wore, nor the curl of his lip - it was the harsh, cold look in his eye that caused Blake to snap.

The room reeked of those who had not a care in the world for the people -  _ greed and gluttony and selfishness and hatred  _ \- it haunted the room like cloying perfume, fake and cheap, and Blake couldn’t take any more.

Biting her lip so hard blood exploded in her mouth, she unhooked the cap off her bottle and slashed the yellow paint across the man’s eyes.

It was like a dam had been broken. Something wet was smeared across Blake’s fingers as she raged, flinging paint across the walls. She slightly realized she was breathing hard, voice cracking, until a sharp scent filled her nose and she looked up.

Angry slashes of yellow filled the room, cutting across painted torsos and adorning walls in furious words. Blake dragged a hand down her face, dimly realizing she was smearing paint down her mask. Yellow covered her hands, burning into her eyes.

_ This wasn’t a statement. _

_ This was - this was violence. _

Blake found it hard to breathe. She staggered outside the room, her breath coming in short bursts. The paint can dropped from her fingers, crashed to the floor.

Footsteps crashed behind her. Blake could hear voices, panicked and distant, then becoming louder and louder.

Mercury pounded around the corner. He’d torn off his mask and it was nowhere in sight, his eyes wide in terror and cheeks flushed. Behind him came Emerald, green hair tangled and smudged with an unknown substance.

Blake barely had time to open her mouth before they were gone.

A loud  _ crack,  _ like a firework being set off, came from downstairs, and Blake smelled something acrid in the air, choking and burning.

She was running before she knew it, dashing through hallways and around bends, and nearly crashed into Adam. HIs hands caught her wrists, drawing her away from her destination, body pressed tight against her.

“Adam,” Blake gasped, struggling, “What - what’s going on -”

Adam didn’t say a word, holding Blake’s hands. “Blake,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “Blake, we need to leave.”

“But -” Blake bit off her words as she saw.

_ Fire. _

Crackling wood and burning timber, all an inferno, greedily blazing along the corridor, devouring everything in its path. A wash of heat nearly knocked Blake backwards, and she forced herself to drag her eyes back to Adam’s face.

“It was an accident, Blake, I swear,” Adam ground out. “But we need to  _ leave  _ \- now, they’ll find us, all our friends have left already.  _ We need to get out of here.  _ Separate, split up. You have my number - I’ll contact you, just  _ go.” _

Blake was left speechless, bitterness catching in the back of her throat. She barely had enough strength to nod before Adam left, his hands slipping away from her shoulders, and Blake  _ ran. _

She ran on autopilot - legs carrying her to wherever she needed to go,  _ away,  _ away from this place, burning tinder and flickering infernos, chest heaving with breathless sobs, trying to catch her breath but still  _ running, running. _

After what seemed like an eternity, Blake was crashing through the woods on the edge of the city, dizzy and uncoordinated. She tore off her mask and threw it somewhere - it landed in the foliage and she knelt, fingers digging into the moss and soil, and gasped in breaths of cool air, trying to calm the burning ache in her chest.

She wearily got to her feet, mind settling into a numb sort of blankness. Blake was faintly aware she was moving, feet stumbling toward a faint light in the distance, hoisting herself over a rough fence, dropping into a backyard; weeds curled around her ankles and she ripped them off, uncaring.

It was only after she was grasping the edge of a windowsill and pulling herself in, letting moonlight wash over the curled figure in the bed across the room, that she realized where she was.

_ Yang’s room. _

And Yang was sitting up in her bed, looking at Blake through sleep-mussed hair and half-awake eyes, holding up a hand to shield herself from the brightness.

“Blake?” she asked, drowsiness lacing her tone. “Is that -” she frowned, and Blake felt her heart drop to her knees, swaying on already exhausted legs. “What are you doing here?”

“I fucked up,” Blake mumbled, and then she was falling forwards, Yang moving with an exhale of shock, her arms wrapping around Blake’s shoulders and pulling her closer.

“Beauty,” Yang murmured against Blake’s hair, strong hands wrapped around her, fingertips brushing the space between Blake’s shoulder blades, “You smell like smoke.”

Blake gave a choked laugh and forced herself to draw away, push back from the warmth. “I did something bad, Yang,” she was saying, words spilling from her mouth. “Something bad happened, things got out of control -”

“Whoa, whoa.” Yang said, and she was tilting Blake’s chin up so that they were eye level, and something in the gesture reminded Blake of Adam, but the way Yang did it was so  _ gentle, fragile,  _ like Blake was going to break any second. And maybe she was. “Are you all right?”

Blake opened her mouth to say something, to protest -  _ no, she was not all right, something irrevocably terrible had happened and she needed to get out of here, now  _ \- before Yang’s eyes flashed lilac in the faint light, and she whispered, “What do you need?”

“I want to stay,” Blake breathed, and she  _ did,  _ she was worn down and some part of her was already drowning in thoughts, screams,  _ fire, ravaging through corridors  _ \- but the way Yang was standing so  _ close  _ to Blake, eyes still a little drowsy and warm and vulnerable, made Blake feel safe, washing away the pain.

Yang’s eyes were burning -  _ burning  _ \- with unanswered questions, glowing like coals in a way that made Blake want to scream and cry and laugh all at once, but she nodded. Blake was shaking, but she couldn’t stop, and Yang’s face softened before she leaned in, planting a soft kiss to the girl’s temple, and Blake melted.

“We’ll talk this out later,” Yang promised, and Blake barely managed to reach for Yang’s hand, touching it gently, before the last of her energy burnt out and she crumpled, eyes closing, falling into a sea of burning tinder, flames the color of gold shot through with crimson.

-

Blake woke up to gentle warmth.

She blinked, wearily raking a hand through her hair. It was tangled and her fingertips came away smudged with black - almost like  _ soot. _

It all hit her - the fire, Adam,  _ Yang. _

Looking over, she found Yang sprawled on the floor, sleeping underneath a sparse blanket, fingers twisted in her pillow. Which meant Yang had put Blake in  _ her  _ bed, and taken it upon herself to sleep on the floor.

Blake felt a surge of blazing warmth, rising in her chest and spreading to her fingertips - she pushed aside all the memories of last night and took a few precious seconds to marvel at the feeling, touching her chest.

It made her feel shaky and euphoric, and grateful. Grateful to whatever string of destiny had led her to Yang, whose bright and open heart was more than Blake ever deserved.

Blake slid out of Yang’s bed, thankful that she had left no ash on the sheets. She heard voices from downstairs, and carefully crept down the steps, pulling on her clothes from the night before. Thankfully, Blake must’ve had the foresight of bringing dark clothes - it hid the dust and grime.

Ruby was flopped on the couch, watching the TV, legs hooked over the back of the seat. She was busy watching a cartoon, boredom written in her silver eyes. It quickly dropped away when she saw Blake, eyes widening.

“Blake?” she asked hesitantly. “What - what’re you doing here?”

“Yang invited me,” Blake replied hastily, wincing at the small lie. It stung inside her mouth, but the last thing she needed was Ruby to ask questions. 

“Yang? Isn’t she sleeping?” came Weiss’s unruffled voice. “Oh, hello, Blake.”

“Hey, Weiss,” Blake called back. She felt her tension fading away, mood soothed by the calm presences of her friends, the warm sunlight soaking into her skin. “I didn’t know you were staying over.”

“She’s making breakfast,” Ruby whispered gleefully to Blake. “I think she  _ likes  _ it. Weiss doesn’t have the chance to make her own food a lot.”

“I  _ heard  _ that,” Weiss sniped at the dark-haired girl, appearing in the doorway with plates of toast and eggs, cups of coffee balanced carefully on the trays. “Keep it down or you won’t get any more food, you dolt. And get your feet off the couch, all the blood will rush to your head.”

Ruby made a face and scrambled off the couch. Blake hid a small laugh at the girls’ antics, giving a grateful smile to Weiss when the pale-haired girl passed her a cup of steaming liquid. “Thank you.”

“Weiss makes the best food,” Ruby declared, digging into her eggs. “Except she  _ never  _ puts enough sugar in my coffee.”

“I will pour this on your face,” Weiss threatened, waving her coffee in Ruby’s direction. “Please change the show - this theme song is getting on my nerves.”

Ruby stuck her tongue out at Weiss but good-naturedly started flipping through the channels. Blake sipped at her coffee, letting the warmth seep through the cup, nearly burning her fingers.

“Wait,” Weiss gasped, leaning forward. Her coffee hung loose from her hand, nearly spilling on her dress, but her attention was fixed on the screen. “Go back three channels.”

Ruby looked concerned at Weiss’s sudden tension, thumbing at the remote. It landed on a live news channel, the camera fixated on -

Blake’s fingers grew cold, and her hands froze where they were, the cup almost slipping out of her grasp.

A  _ building,  _ the burnt-out husk all that remained of its former glory. Firefighters were picking their way around the wreckage, shots of what remained flashing intermittently.  _ The curled edges of a portrait. A doorknob, covered in ash. Shards of glass and concrete. _

The camera focused on what remained of a plaque - Blake dimly recalled it hanging underneath one of the portraits she’d decimated - the name glittering faintly.  _ Jacques Schnee. _

“That’s my father’s company,” Weiss was saying, her hands hovering in front of her mouth. “Oh,  _ god  _ \- that’s my  _ father  _ -”

Blake faintly heard Ruby murmuring comforting words to Weiss, her hand resting on the other girl’s shoulder. Weiss had turned even paler, murmuring, “ _ Who did this _ ?”

There was a roaring in Blake’s ears. Gently, she set the cup on the table, fisting her hands in the material of her sweater.

“Reports say that camera footage was obtained,” the woman on screen was saying, “Six accomplices, all wearing grotesque masks, had broken into the Schnee Dust company building last night -”

_ Time’s up. _

Blake felt everything rushing at her, battering her mind, pounding against her chest.  _ They weren’t safe. They weren’t safe around her. _

“I need to go,” she heard herself saying, pushing past Ruby and Weiss to head to the door. Ignoring Ruby’s startled cry, ignoring Weiss’s frantic call, ignoring a treacherous voice in her head, whispering,  _ what about Yang?,  _ Blake started running - running, like the night before, but not towards comfort.

_ I need to leave them. _

-

Adam knew.

Adam knew and so did Cinder, Emerald, Mercury, Hazel. They all knew and their faces were grim, still grim even when Adam explained the precariousness of their situation.

Blake was numb. She didn’t respond, didn’t have it within her to flinch when Adam said they had to leave forever.

They were wanted - burning a building of a very powerful company was viewed as a  _ threat,  _ an attack, and it was only a matter of time before they were identified. Anybody affiliated with them was going to be arrested -  _ or worse  _ \- and they had to distance themselves.

Adam kissed Blake, whispered it was going to be all right, but that only made her shiver, thinking of bright eyes and gold hair for the thousandth time, of friends she had made and was about to lose.

“Blake,” Adam whispered, “This is our life now.”

Blake didn’t have it within her to fight it anymore.

They ran away, ran away from their sleepy town and big city, ran into the night. Ran away from the catastrophe they caused, and into a life of terror and weapons and vengeance, because this was the fate they had doomed themselves to.

And if Blake felt any pain, any emotion at the thought of leaving behind a girl that burned like fire, she ripped it out, stomped on her heart, and promised to herself,  _ you’re saving her; she won’t be safe if you were there. _

Still, in the nights, she could hear Yang’s voice -  _ “promise you won’t leave me, Beauty?”  _ \- and Blake replied, always replied,  _ “I promise.” _

Blake gritted her teeth and forced herself to turn away, hearing a shattering in her heart, and wondered if it was the snapping of that final promise that drove her to ruin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me introduce you to my friend, angst
> 
> with apologies to blake and yangster for the pain, ruby and weiss for being dragged into this mess, and whoever's reading this for the cliffhanger


	6. 3 months, 29 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have one final question,” Yang said slowly, carefully. “Where is the headquarters of the White Fang?”
> 
> Raven jerked her head up in surprise at that; Yang stared back at her coolly, the dangerous look back in her eyes. “You want to know the headquarters of the _White Fang_ ,” Raven murmured, tracing her fingers over the rim of her cup. “The terrorist group.”
> 
> Yang just nodded, arms crossed over her chest. “I need something from them,” she said, her eyes darkening.
> 
> Raven looked Yang up and down - she didn’t doubt her ability to handle a fight. “Are you out of your mind?”
> 
> Yang’s mouth hardened and she scowled at Raven. “I just need one thing from you,” she said lowly, her voice sharp and dangerous, “Just the one, then I’ll waltz out of your life and you’ll never see me again.”

_ 3 months, 29 days before: _

****

“Relax your guard. You must be tired.”

The stranger stood in the middle of the camp. She’d pulled up a few minutes ago, on a blazing yellow motorbike that had growled menacingly enough to put a wide berth between her and the wary crowd. Still, she stood on the ground, arms crossed, lips pulled into a feral scowl. 

“I’m looking for Raven Branwen.” The girl’s voice was flat and emotionless, in the tone people donned when they were trying to hide their roiling emotions. “Is she here?”

Vernal, Raven’s most loyal supporter, who was speaking to the intruder, visibly stiffened for a moment. Vernal’s eyes barely flickered to where Raven was standing, hidden amongst her followers. It was easier to hide this way, draw visitors’ attention to a decoy of sorts, rather than Raven herself, and Vernal trusted Raven enough to place her at the front. 

Raven tilted her head, pretending to size up the girl from her vantage point amongst the crowd. Raven already knew who she was - barely entering adulthood, gold hair and eyes that flashed dark in the blazing sun. Still, she had to keep up pretenses - her followers were watching her nervously, waiting for her next move, and it wouldn’t do to have the leader of the camp ruffled over the arrival of, what they knew, a mere  _ child. _

“You are Yang Xiao Long,” Vernal said coolly, “Daughter of Taiyang Xiao Long. You have a half-sister named Ruby Rose, whose mother is Summer Rose, deceased.”

“I didn’t come here for my life biography,” the girl snapped, but her posture was decidedly more shaken. “I came here for Raven. Are you going to let me see her, or not?”

Vernal raised an eyebrow. “And why would I let you come in contact with her, our leader? Civilians do not have permission to interact with members of our tribe. You’re lucky you’re still standing here.”

The girl smiled then, a quirk of her lips, dangerous and with the confidence of those who knew they had the upper hand. “Rights are given for immediate family,” she replied smoothly, and Raven’s followers visibly flinched, a shudder rippling through the crowd. Even Vernal’s usually cool facade had slipped, giving way to a shocked bewilderment. 

They knew better than to glance at Raven at a time like this, but the tension in the air had increased tenfold.

Raven didn’t let any emotion appear, for she was sure she was being watched - still, a flash of respect burned through her, at her daughter’s audacity to step into the camp of one of the most well-known gangs on the edge of the country, travelling for hundreds of miles to finish her quest, and declare her affiliation to Raven without hesitation.

If Raven was being truly honest with herself, which she rarely ever was, it was that she’d been expecting Yang’s arrival after an unknown incident that had left Yang shaken to the core. It was around the time of the rise of the White Fang, a new terror group that primarily used violence to exaggerate their points. 

Raven let a resigned smile appear on her face as she surveyed Yang’s influence on her people. In one bold statement, she’d rendered any threats against her useless, and had declared her affiliation with Raven boldly and clearly. Her tribe was clearly torn between distrust of the outsider and her connection to Raven, leaving them at an impasse.

Maybe Yang had more of Raven in her than she’d originally thought.

Vernal glanced again at Raven, a question flickering in her eyes. This time, Raven deigned to give her a brief nod, the slightest dip of her chin, and Vernal barked a harsh order before the crowds started to melt away, flowing around Raven, Vernal leading them towards the deeper regions of camp.

It was always rewarding to know Raven picked her lieutenants well, rewarding when their respect for her outweighed their fears.

Yang was still standing, glaring up at Raven forcefully. Her stance was loose, poised, ready for a fight Raven wouldn’t give her. Not today. “You.”

Raven spread her arms wide, allowing the full force of her amusement to bleed through her smile. “Hello, Yang.”

When Yang didn’t reply, her lilac eyes just scanning Raven up and down, Raven’s lip curled. “If you are disappointed, you may leave. I will only speak to people who see eye-to-eye with me.” 

Yang recovered her composure quickly, any emotion slipping away. “Just… I can’t believe I finally found you,” she replied, and it was honest and simple and reminded Raven of better times. 

She shook the thought away with a scowl. 

Yang’s mouth had settled into a hard line. “I need to talk to you.”

“As you’ve said before.” Raven gestured for Yang to sit inside her tent, ducking underneath the flap, not bothering to wait for Yang to enter. She knew her daughter’s curiosity would compel her to stay, for she had questions only Raven had the answers to.

Sure enough, Yang followed Raven into the tent. She was still wary, limbs tense - Raven could see tape wrapped around Yang’s knuckles, the remnants of a recent brawl.

The scars of the battles Yang had waged to reach her destination.

Whatever Raven was, whatever shreds were left of her heart after her own hardships and wars and sufferings, did not stop her from admiring Yang’s tenacity to continue burning.

Raven sat down at the low table, reaching for the cup of tea she had prepared before Yang’s arrival. A similar cup was placed across from Raven’s position, Yang carefully seating herself across from Raven, not touching the tea.

Raven smirked around the edge of her cup.  _ Still wary, I see. _

“I wouldn’t poison you,” she drawled, making sure her words were sweet. “You’re my  _ daughter _ .”

Yang scoffed and looked around, eyeing the tent with a distaste Raven thought was unwarranted. “I see you’ve already prepared for this meeting,  _ mother. _ ”

Raven shrugged delicately, ignoring the pointed comment. “A little bird informed me of your venture,” she replied coolly. “I was expecting you.”

Yang’s grip tightened on the cup. “It would help,” she growled, “If you made your  _ interest  _ in my life  _ apparent. _ ”

_ Ah. _ Raven chanced a glance at Yang, whose barely trembling fingertips and burning eyes betrayed the rage simmering in her daughter’s body. 

Raven rarely regretted decisions, but leaving her daughter was one of the hardest choices she had to make.

_ Do it for the tribe. Do it for the safety of your future. _

“I did it to protect you,” she replied calmly. “You were safer without my intervention.” 

Yang’s palm rose and slammed onto the table; the cups shuddered, tea slopping over the rims. “I would’ve been  _ safer, _ ” Yang hissed, eyes flashing furiously, “If I had my damn  _ mother _ .”

Raven said nothing, sipped at her tea; after a few moments the fire in Yang’s eyes died and she slumped onto the cushions, defeated.

“Why?” Yang asked, her voice soft and broken - the remnant of a young girl left shattered in the wake of a tragedy - “Why did you have to  _ leave _ ?”

Raven sensed that there was more to the question than what lay on the surface - it carried the hidden meaning of words that weren’t aimed at Raven specifically, but maybe at another tragedy.

The question was reasonable, and Raven pondered it - allowed herself to turn the question over, and in her mind’s eye flashed dark feathers and crimson eyes, flighty wings and the tang of alcohol, the exhilarating feel of being swept off the ground.

“Sometimes we leave those we love,” Raven murmured, “In order to protect them. Sometimes we leave in order to achieve a better goal, a future we deserve; or to allow those we leave to forge their own path in peace.”

Yang traced the edge of the table with her fingertips. “That’s a load of crap,” she said slowly, her voice unwavering. “If you  _ truly  _ love someone, you’d stay. You’d stay to fight together, and not alone.”

There was a hardness in Yang’s eyes that made Raven wonder, but it wasn’t in her interests to ask. Still, Raven felt a pinch in her throat, something she couldn’t take back - it was in her feet to run, in her wings to fly, and Raven couldn’t apologize for something that was inherently part of her.

It was Raven’s instinct to take flight, and look at what that caused -  _ look at the broken girl in front of you,  _ her mind whispered.  _ Look at her, your daughter, look at who you failed to take care of. Look at who you failed to  _ love.

“I’d hoped -” Raven broke off the words that came unbidden to her mouth, but the damage was already done. Yang had seen the crack in the facade in her mother’s face - leaning forwards minutely, pressing her on. “I’d hoped that you would be better off without me - you had a father who loved you, and I was not capable of giving you what you deserved.”

“Well,” Yang said harshly, “I’m pretty fucked up. But that doesn’t stop me from  _ trying _ .” She exhaled and leaned back; fingers unclenching on the table. “That doesn’t stop me from  _ trying  _ to stay on my feet, keep a smile on for Ruby, to keep hoping - to keep  _ loving,  _ even if it takes every ounce of will I have, every breath I take. Sometimes, every  _ word  _ hurts, and I’m goddamn  _ scared  _ \- scared I’m going to fail - but I  _ stay.  _ I stayed and I pushed through.”

“You’re here now,” Raven accused; it was the best she could do, trying to gain ground that was already slipping underneath her feet. “Did you run?”

“I left like you did,” Yang said brokenly, “To get away from my fear. But here’s the thing.” Yang’s voice was quiet when she finished, “I’m coming  _ back.  _ I always will. Ruby knows - my  _ family  _ knows - and  _ I  _ know. And I guess that’s what makes me different than you.”

Raven’s shock was evident in her eyes; Yang stared at her full-on, tears gathering openly in her lilac eyes, but she still burned with righteous fury.

“Will you come home?” Yang asked, the faintest hint of a plea in her tone.

Raven felt her voice catch in her throat - for once, she felt her composure slipping entirely, undone by the mere words of a girl, her  _ child,  _ sitting in front of her. Two sides warred in her - would she give up her wings, her freedom, for a life that was faintly bittersweet and tasted of a  future she had given up? All for her daughter?

Tilting her chin down - she would  _ not  _ face Yang in the eyes as she lost the battle, for Yang’s sake or hers - she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Yang’s voice was shattered when she replied, “Yeah. Me too.”

There was a faraway quality in her tone that made Raven wonder if Yang was speaking directly to her - words maybe aimed at a different soul, one that was too far away for her to reach.

Raven sat there for a moment, breathing in; Yang abruptly stood, the tea forgotten between them.

“I have one final question,” Yang said slowly, carefully. “Where is the headquarters of the White Fang?”

Raven jerked her head up in surprise at that; Yang stared back at her coolly, the dangerous look back in her eyes. “You want to know the headquarters of the  _ White Fang, _ ” Raven murmured, tracing her fingers over the rim of her cup. “The terrorist group.”

Yang just nodded, arms crossed over her chest. “I need something from them,” she said, her eyes darkening.

Raven looked Yang up and down - she didn’t doubt her ability to handle a fight. “Are you out of your mind?”

Yang’s mouth hardened and she scowled at Raven. “I just need one thing from you,” she said lowly, her voice sharp and dangerous, “Just the one, then I’ll waltz out of your life and you’ll never see me again.”

Raven stood, was about to say something - maybe to disclose the location, which she  _ knew,  _ because Raven was  _ not  _ a fool to let a rising terrorist group roam around without being under watch; or to tell Yang to  _ leave  _ before her meddling got her in deeper trouble than she already was in - but a loud gunshot rang outside, fragmenting Raven’s attention on Yang.

Immediately, her fingers were flashing towards the hidden weapon in her belt - she raced outside, Yang immediately following her. “What?” Yang demanded, half-angrily, half-startled. “What is it?”

Raven didn’t reply - she ducked into the ever-growing crowd growing in the central area, hidden amongst her followers; Yang raced after her until they were standing at the fringes, unnoticed by the three strangers who were standing in the middle of the clearing.

Vernal was once again at the head of the crowd - facing the intruders, two girls and one boy. One girl, obviously the leader, had a piercing gaze and short, dark hair that fell over one eye - the boy was slim and had a perpetually shifty look about him, and the other girl had dyed green hair and eyes that were always flicking towards their leader.

The most startling thing about the group was the gun in the leader’s hand - she lowered it from its raised position and pretended to blow smoke from the end, smiling coyly at Vernal like she wanted to devour her alive.

“Who are you?” Vernal demanded. “And what are you doing here?” 

Raven could already see the marks on their clothing - a crimson wolf’s head with three diagonal slashes - and she pressed Yang back, who had her fists clenched furiously.

“I know those three,” Yang muttered. “They’re from my school; they dropped out at the same time Bla - at the same time the White Fang started rising. What are they doing here?”

Murmurs were already passing around the crowd - the marks on their clothing weren’t exactly  _ unnoticeable.  _ Vernal kept her eyes fixed on the intruders, coolly, daring them to reply.

“The marks on their clothes are those of the White Fang,” Raven hissed, and Yang’s whole body immediately tensed, like she was about to throw herself in the the fray, burning from the inside out.

“Son of a -” Yang cursed, fingers clenching.

“I thought you’d know who we are already,” the boy said, sounding offended and smug at the same time. “You know, the nationwide terrorists; we’re from the motherfucking  _ White Fang. _ ”

Nobody in the crowd flinched, having already registered their presence - the boy looked around, visibly disappointed in the crowd’s reaction; the green-haired girl looked at their leader, who was smirking.

“Let’s get down to business,” the leader purred. “We need to negotiate with the leader of your little…  _ tribe. _ The White Fang has a proposition, and you would be best to agree.”

Vernal’s eyes found Raven’s so briefly it could be mistaken as a momentary glance at the crowd - Raven barely shook her head, fingers clenching around her weapon.

_ Be ready for a fight,  _ she communicated silently, and the entire crowd shifted subtly.

Yang moved too, and Raven had completely forgotten about her presence.  _ Well,  _ Raven thought grimly,  _ If we fight together, it may be the closest interaction we’ll ever get. _

“No,” Vernal said clearly, enunciating the syllable. 

The leader sighed minutely, flexing her fingers like she had expected this answer. “At least let me offer this,” she said sweetly, extending her hand. The gun thumped to the ground, leaving her seemingly defenseless. “Peace,” she continued, “Between our factions.”

When Raven didn’t move - Yang breathing shallowly behind her, visibly trembling and smoldering with an unknown emotion - Vernal cautiously stepped forward, reaching for the young woman’s outstretched hand. 

Raven saw it too late - the sharp glint, the knowing smirk - she started forward with a ragged inhale of a warning, but it was too late. 

Vernal’s fingers brushed the woman’s, ready to seal the offer; she was close enough for the leader to take the fatal step forward and plunge the knife - deceptively hidden in her other hand - into Vernal’s chest. 

Vernal’s eyes flew open, and she seemed shocked - startled, wide-eyed and betrayed - her lips formed an unintelligible word before she crumpled into the dust. 

Nobody dared to move an inch. Raven was standing stock-still - Yang frozen behind her, eyes trained on Vernal’s crumpled form with horrified dismay - and her followers stood silent around her. 

Vernal was good as gone; Raven felt a pounding in her ears. 

The leader raised a hand, having picked up the gun lying on the ground. “Now,” she said, voice silky, “There are going to be some rules in this forsaken dump of a place. The White Fang doesn’t want any of you  _ gangs  _ interfering with our movements - we are creating an army like no other,  as a common goal - and as your leader, you all now are under  _ my  _ control.”

“Who said anything about  _ you  _ being the leader?” Raven asked coolly, stepping from the crowd. 

“We studied your movements,” the leader said dismissively. “Whoever manages to eject the commander currently in power gets control, or have you suddenly changed your traditions after decades of honoring them?” She smiled sharply. “The current leader had come into power by… ah, shall I say,  _ seizing  _ the throne due to violence.”

“You aren’t in control of us,” Raven said calmly, smiling vindictively at the girl standing in front of her - so  _ smug,  _ so  _ sure  _ of her victory - because  _ I  _ am the leader of this tribe, not Vernal.”

Raven heard the muffled curse from the girl’s disciples - the young woman’s face immediately slipped into a mixture of surprise, bewilderment, and fear. 

And Yang’s inhalation of shock, of pain. 

Yang was still standing behind her - Raven could sense the moment the leader recognized her daughter, a sneer contorting her previously stricken face. 

It was the green-haired girl who spoke first. “You’re the blond bimbo,” she accused, and Yang smirked, choking smoke and shattered glass. 

“Hello, Emerald. Cinder, Mercury. You three are looking fine, despite being absolute pieces of trash.”

The leader, Cinder, didn’t rise to to the bait - however, the silver-haired boy did, snarling immediately at Yang, who smiled like she knew she had the upper hand. 

“Where is she?” Yang asked simply. 

They exchanged a glance - obviously knowing who Yang was talking about. “Where is who?” Mercury asked, grinning smugly. 

“You know who I mean,” Yang breathed, and then she was flying across the ground, her fist connecting with the boy’s face, and Raven took advantage of the momentary distraction to surge forward and attack. 

The three intruders found themselves hemmed in at all fronts - Yang was holding her own admirably well, nimbly ducking each punch the boy landed at her, pressing him back towards the exit. 

Raven faced Cinder, pulling out her own weapon - they circled each other, Vernal crumpled a few feet away, a gruesome reminder of what Raven had to avenge. 

“You speak well for a child,” Raven said sternly, facing Cinder. Her finger played with the trigger; she watched Cinder prowl in circles around her, analyzing her movements. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“You speak well for a woman who runs from even her shadow,” Cinder said, her eyes sparkling with malice. “I’ve gotten so drunk on power I’ve become used to the fire in my veins;  _ don’t _ tell me what I’m capable of when  _ you’ve _ never chosen the  _ right  _ future.”

“If you were as  _ capable  _ as you claimed,” Raven replied, lips curling into a jagged shadow  of the smile her daughter blazed with, “You’d remember to watch your back.”

Cinder’s face flashed with bewilderment, then realization - she turned and barely dodged the weak shot Vernal aimed at her, shaky from blood loss and barely conscious, but it was enough for Raven to pull the trigger.

Cinder dropped to the ground next to Vernal, lips twisted in a final grimace, eyes locked in the mad gaze of those who would never be satisfied with the amount of power they obtained. 

Raven knelt next to Vernal, who was turning cold; closed her eyes and whispered her thanks. 

Yang was fighting Mercury and Emerald  - pressed against the entrance to the camp, dismantling Emerald with a kick to the ribs, kneeing Mercury in the groin. Her movements were sloppy, obviously learned in a short amount of time, but filled with enough energy and determination and righteous fury that they made every shot deadly. 

Mercury stumbled back; there was a bruise reddening along his cheek, and Emerald had a scrape along her elbow. Yang’s nose was bleeding, blood staining her lips, when she snarled: “Where is Blake?”

“If you come after us,” Emerald promised, her voice cutting, “We’ll hurt her.” She smiled victoriously at Yang’s stricken expression - somehow raw and deep and  _ pained  _ at the mention of this girl - and added, “Or worse.”

Yang hesitated, clearly torn - but Mercury, taking advantage of her momentary weakness, suddenly bent down and scooped a handful of dirt, hurling it at Yang’s eyes, and she flinched. 

When Raven reached Yang’s side, blood was dripping down her chin, but Emerald and Mercury were gone. 

Yang’s expression was still ripped apart - torn, her eyes pleading and cracked. “They - they - she has to be okay -” she whispered, almost to herself, fingers clenching at her sides.

Raven stood next to Yang, eyes trained on the road ahead of them. “You have a difficult journey ahead of you,” she said quietly, admitting her defeat, although the body of her oppressor was coldening behind Raven on the ground; defeat from Vernal’s loss, defeat from the battle she failed to win against herself. “It’s best if you leave soon.”

Yang nodded minutely; reaching for her pocket and thumbing at a small object - a  _ phone,  _ Raven noted, but Yang was already moving away, slinging herself on her bike.

A flash of lilac and gold was the last glimpse Raven was able to catch, before Yang tore out of her life; Raven turned around to deal with the shocked mass of her tribe with a wrenching feeling in her heart she hid well.

Yang had looked like she was on a mission, to reclaim something she had lost -  _ someone,  _ whoever Blake was - and Raven could still see the raw truth in Yang’s eyes.

_ Sometimes we leave,  _ Raven thought wearily,  _ To protect those we love. _

-

Blake’s phone was ringing.

Adam was nearby; scars and shattered glass scraping dully, hardened to the core. Whatever left of him was carved of stone, cruel and uncaring, and Blake held her flinch inside as he swung to meet Mercury and Emerald in the eyes.

“You failed,” he said calmly, and the promise of violence and anger in his voice was enough to make Blake shiver.

“We didn’t know,” Mercury protested weakly, his arrogance a faint shadow. “How could we know that Cinder miscalculated? That she would  _ die? _ How could it all go  _ wrong? _ ”

_ Cinder.  _ Blake felt sick, dizzying, an odd combination of jubilation and horror pulsing through her.  _ Cinder, gone. _

Emerald gave a quiet sniff - her eyes were suspiciously bright, voice too eager and trembling. “There’s someone on our trail,” she rushed, “The blonde one from school; the  _ girl.  _ Blake’s  _ best friend.  _ She was there, at the camp.” A vindictive smirk was thrown at Blake, and Blake could feel her whole body stiffen. “We let her off with a warning; she’s not coming back anytime soon.”

Blake bit off the urge to scream, cry, throw herself at Emerald and yell, demand where Yang was, run out the doors and never go back.

Blake’s phone rung again, insistently. She played with the mute button, knowing that one small slip of her thumb would expose her, to Adam’s rage.

Adam turned to meet Blake - she was pale and shaking, whether it was from the mere mention of Yang or Cinder’s death or Adam’s dizzying closeness, she couldn’t tell - and her hand fell from her phone.

“Go,” Adam spoke carelessly, and Emerald and Mercury scurried from the room, leaving Blake alone with the dreaded feeling surging underneath her skin.

Crossing to her in two broad steps, Adam leaned down and kissed Blake; bruising and hard, no sense of the softness she had seen in him an age ago.

The eager, warm boy with the soaring aspirations and dreams of equality had been replaced with a twisted, cold man with nothing but a sense of warped reality and dangerous visuals of power, and it was his touch running over Blake, down her cheek, around her neck with dangerous fragility.

Blake pushed herself away, freezing and shaking - Adam frowned, noting her discomfort. “Love,” he spoke, and Blake felt herself tense at the word, an irrational part of her wishing for it to be spoken from a different pair of lips, warm and bright and  _ golden,  _ “What is wrong?”

“Cinder,” Blake lied easily, letting herself sink into the mindless haze of harsh reality. It was an easy mask to don, and she wore it with disgust. “I - it shocked me, Adam.”

“As did I,” Adam said softly, but there was no sign of repugnance in his eyes, no sign of sorrow, just a cold harshness. “Come, Blake, we have business tomorrow. It’s late, and we must rest.”

“When will this stop?” she burst out, uncaring - it was like a dam in her had broken and spilled over. “Adam,  _ please  _ \- when will this all stop, this violence, these  _ deaths  _ \- they aren’t accidents, there are too many of them,  _ please  _ \- is this dream of yours worth it all?”

Adam’s face changed. “Blake,” he said sorrowfully, patiently, “Have you lost faith in me? Of our dream?”

“No,” Blake felt herself replying automatically, and hating it. “No, I just -”

“Dreams come at a cost,” Adam said softly, sliding a hand along her jaw. “I know you had to leave behind a life - that girl, Yang, is not the best friend you left, you do know? She has changed, and so have you - such is the price of achieving dreams not wanted by the majority.”

Blake wanted to choke on the words -  _ Yang would never leave me, I would never leave her, I did it because I need her to be safe, happy  _ \- but she couldn’t say them, knowing she was as much a liar as this empire she stood in. “I know,” she murmured.

“You promised you’d stand by me, Blake,” Adam said kindly, and he leaned forward and caressed her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. “You’re mine, love. Nobody else’s.”

Blake nodded, cold and numb, watching his fingers withdraw from her locks, Adam turning and leaving the room, and she clutched her arms and tried not to let her tears fall.

After what felt like an eternity, she reached for her phone with trembling fingers.  _ You have one missed call.  _ her screen read.  _ From Yang Xiao Long.  _

Blake fought back her beating heart, briefly roused at the sight of the name.

_ You have one new voicemail from Yang Xiao Long. _

Blake didn’t listen at first - just scrolled through the long, long list of voicemails and missed calls from Yang, a scattering from Ruby and even Weiss, her parents too - all terrified, pleading voices, every one of them, and she couldn’t answer any of them.

Her calls were monitored - the sick fear of what Adam would do when he found out that she kept her old phone curled around her throat whenever her finger hovered over the  _ Call Back  _ button.

She settled for listening to their voicemails, faint ghosts of their voice. 

_ You have one voicemail from Yang Xiao Long. _

Blake pressed  _ Listen. _

_ “Blake.”  _ Yang’s voice was shaky - Blake felt something inside her curl and tighten at the sound of her voice, Blake’s name spoken.  _ “Blake, I know you’re out there. Hell, you might not even have your phone - but if I don’t call, that means I have to give up on you.” An inhale. “You might not even be listening right now - fuck, what am I doing -” _

_ Yang took a deep breath, letting it out again. “Okay. I don’t know what you did that made you run, but - a few old faces showed up. Emerald, Mercury, Cinder. Cinder’s dead, and I - I don’t know, it happened so fast, but Mercury and Emerald promised to hurt you and I don’t know if you’re actually in - god, I need to slow down - but I can’t continue. I can’t continue like this if everyone’s going to leave me like this. This is the last one. Last - I’m stopping after this. I can’t keep hunting ghosts and trails and I can’t - I don’t know why - I can’t -” _

_ Another shaky exhale. The sound of scraping, labored breathing. “Blake,” Yang rasped. “Come home.” _

It always ended like that. There was a click, and the message ended.

Blake let the tears fall, her phone cold and numb in her grasp, and she couldn’t stop herself from choking out tears, gasps, throat closing up and heart aching like it was the end of the world.

Her fingers were cold, and Blake needed warmth.

She curled around her phone, breathing, clutching onto the faintest memory of the girl with lilac eyes and sunlight hair, lit aflame, bruised knuckles and warm skin, and Blake finally acknowledged what she had done.

_ You promised, Blake. _

_ You promised you wouldn’t leave me. _

“I’m sorry,” Blake gasped out, faintly, weakly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry -”

Her words echoed dully against the walls, thrown back at her feet uselessly. Ashy. Useless. Burnt-out husks.

“I promised, Yang Xiao Long,” Blake confessed brokenly to the empty room. “I promised and I broke it, I needed you safe, I need you to be happy but I made it  _ worse,  _ you wouldn’t be safe with me by your side; I miss you so goddamn much, you and your terrible jokes and wild hair you wouldn’t let anybody but me touch and your  _ heart,  _ god, I think I may be in  _ love  _ with you, and I threw it away -”

Blake felt her whole body shake at the admission, but she whispered it over and over to the cold phone in her hands.

_ I love you, I love you, I love you… _

_ I promised… _

_ I failed... _

Blake wiped her hand across her mouth, stood up and faced the silent walls, shoulders shaking. She let herself calm down - straightening once more, turning to steel and the edge of a blade.

_ I love her,  _ Blake repeated to herself, and it was the only thing she was sure of.

_ I love her and I lost her. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody's gonna nominate raven for mom of the year award


	7. 18 days before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tracks behind her lit up - metal shone and glittered, Adam’s light skidding off them. Blake’s hair tangled in her eyes and she was grateful she didn’t have to meet Adam’s - already she could feel herself cracking under his gaze.
> 
> Bewildered, startled. Even though she knew it was faked, not real, not _ever_ , Blake was starting to feel cold, shaking.
> 
> “Adam.” She bit the words out and hated the need to _explain_ herself to him. “I need to - I can’t live like this anymore.”
> 
> A train was sweeping by - screaming along the metal, lights flashing off handles and wood, setting Blake’s surroundings alight.  
> She could finally see how the fire in Adam had quenched.

_18 days before:_

****

Blake hurt all over.

She and Adam were standing by a dark intersection of train tracks. Iron rods and wooden stakes crisscrossed the ground at Blake’s feet, and gravel crunched underneath her boots.

“Ten more minutes,” Adam murmured, metal flashing by his side. Blake looked away from the blunt weapon. “Then the patrol starts.”

Blake felt oddly calm; despite knowing what would happen, the roaring of the trains pounding in her ears.

 _Find Yang,_ she chanted silently in her head, a prayer to a god she had never met. _Find Yang. Find Yang._

As Adam rose in power, Blake had learned to bite her tongue and swallow the blood - quiet, the perfect image of an obedient soldier.

_Pathetic._

_I love her,_ Blake repeated, the only thing that grounded her. _I love her and I’m going to come back to her._

Blake had played the part of the trusting partner flawlessly; Adam took more and more from her, believing in her faith with each passing day. And when they were alone together, she stared into his cold eyes, his skin cool to the touch, and thought of gold-edged hair and a heart made from tinder fueled by lilac eyes.

She imagined, pretended she was kissing someone else.

The more she learned, the more Blake accepted the violence, the closer she came to freedom.

A train screeched by her, Blake’s shadow thrown into sharp relief for a brief moment. Adam hissed and reached for her, yanking Blake viciously back into the darkness cast by a building, his grip bruising. Blake allowed herself to grow pliant in his grip, not daring to offer resistance.

“Adam,” Blake whispered.

Adam’s face didn’t soften, not in the slightest, when he looked down at her. Instead, there was a cruel sort of vindictiveness, like Blake was a trophy he had been handed freely.

“Blake,” he murmured back. “Remember. Remember your duty.”

Blake nodded, her heart crawling into her throat. Sweeping beams of light came closer and closer, lights held by the patrol guards.

Adam released her. “Go.”

Immediately, she raced away - away from Adam’s sweeping lights, the blinded cries of the guards, the dull sounds of metal hitting flesh. Blake ran away to the trains, silent sentinels standing on the tracks, ready to judge her life.

Blake was standing on a pinnacle; suspended between two points, teetering.

_She had waited for this._

Her bag hit her side repeatedly; heavy and cumbersome, metal and plastic clanking against each other. Each sound sent pins into Blake’s throat.

_Explosives._

Adam’s plan was well-thought, carefully crafted; he and Blake would visit the train tracks, masked by the loud screeching and blurred lights. Adam would distract the guards, while Blake, being the slighter and less noticeable one, would set the explosives on the trains.

The ones filled with cargo, shipments ready to be delivered to their owners.

 _Adam -_ Blake fought a shudder at their previous argument - _what about the workers?_

Adam had looked careless, sparking alight, barely fixated on Blake’s words. _They’ll be fine. They won’t notice._

Blake knew he meant _I don’t care; they can die for my greater cause. It would be an honor._

The explosives pounded her sides as she ran. Each sound was muffled by the trains screeching along metal, but she heard their words as clearly as the sound of tinder crackling.

_Will you condemn yourself?_

Blake was standing in the middle of a junkyard - she was breathing hard as the flashing lights of trains whirled around her.

_Find Yang, find Yang, find Yang…_

Voices were growing louder; Adam, surely unsure whether Blake was following his orders. Blake waited for the trains to appear, and fought a hysterical laugh.

_She was going to do this._

In one quick motion, she cut through the wires on the bombs. In the distance, the lone screech of a train echoed.

Running steps, loud yells. They came closer, and Blake stood, welcomed them, _faced them._ The explosives hung heavy at her side, disarmed, useless.

Adam burst through, wild-eyed. The crimson strands of his hair were scattered across his mask - which was cracked along one side. He looked worse for the wear, his metal pipe bent along one side. Still, he wore a look of momentary, dizzy triumph, even as the guards neared with their sweeping lights.

The look dropped from his face as he took in Blake. “Love,” he said cautiously, his smirk slipping from his lips, and Blake sneered _\- no longer Blake, only “love”, only “pet”, no more fire_ \- “What are you doing?”

“This?” Blake heard the words come, disconnected from her body. Gone was the girl who craved fire and sparks and flame, gone was the girl who saw the beauty in this monster, this _beast,_ that stood before her.

Now she stood, cold and marble and an aching handprint on her heart, the lost touch of a girl who was gilded with gold and laughed the word “beauty.” “Adam, I -”

The tracks behind her lit up - metal shone and glittered, Adam’s light skidding off them. Blake’s hair tangled in her eyes and she was grateful she didn’t have to meet Adam’s - already she could feel herself cracking under his gaze.

Bewildered, startled. Even though she knew it was faked, not real, not _ever,_ Blake was starting to feel cold, shaking.

“Adam.” She bit the words out and hated the need to _explain_ herself to him. “I need to - I can’t live like this anymore.”

A train was sweeping by - screaming along the metal, lights flashing off handles and wood, setting Blake’s surroundings alight.

She could finally see how the fire in Adam had quenched.

“Darling.” Adam was reaching out, placating. Even still, she could see the smug confidence - he didn’t believe Blake was capable of _leaving_ him. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” Blake whispered, and Adam realized, he _saw,_ his face going slack with shock. Dimly she remembered this as the calm before the storm - Blake could see his underlying emotions, brain ticking, turning to anger and hatred, dismay and a murderous _betrayal._

He leaped for her just as Blake turned away, her back exposed. The end of the train flashed by and Blake _jumped,_ _reaching, reaching, reaching_ \- flashlights screeched and there was a clang as Adam abandoned his weapon.

For a dizzying, ice-cold second, Blake thought she could feel his breath on her neck, arms wrapping around her wrist, pulling her back as she was suspended in the air - _her hand was still outstretched, please, please, please -_

Adam howled behind her. _“Blake!”_

Blake’s fingers hit cold metal.

She reacted instantly - clumsily wrapping her hand around the handle, hauling herself to the end of the train - it was already racing away, and the last thing she saw was Adam’s stricken face, illuminated by the flashlight beams of the guards who had finally caught up with him.

And Blake curled into herself, wrapped her arms around her shoulders, shuddering on the platform. Crisp air whirled around her and forests swallowed her up, and she started laughing, because she was finally _free._

-

It wasn’t over yet.

Blake knew, had studied plans - she knew that this train was stopping on the edge of the county that bordered the one Yang lived in. In early dusk, faint shadows masking her movements, she leaped off the train as it slowed to a crawl near a crossroads.

From then on, she made her way across the rolling fields - lavender and wheat, vineyards stretching around her. She let sunlight hit her skin and she _laughed,_ enjoying the sound her throat made, rough and disused.

Slowly, Blake warmed; didn’t look like a frail ghost as much, and when she was peering in the warbled surface of a brook, she could almost catch a glimpse of the girl who was in love with Yang Xiao Long but didn’t realize it.

_Beauty and the Beast? Isn’t that a fairytale?_

Blake splashed her hand across the reflection of the water, dragging her fingers against the smooth stones at the bottom, and her face smeared into an unrecognizable array of colors.

It took her what felt like an eternity of walking; eating the small bits of food she had packed in, along with the explosives - they no longer screamed, voices cut when she severed the wires.

She was in an almost familiar area - trees rising around her, woods and ferns and plants curling around her ankles.

Quickly, she disposed of the explosives with practiced ease - dismantling the parts, digging shallow holes in the ground and burying each of them in different areas.

Finally, Blake crouched in a large patch of unfamiliar wildflowers, all exotic colors - crimson, butter yellow, lavender, icy white. She breathed deep, letting her shoulders relax.

A fat bumblebee stumbled from flower to flower, and Blake idly watched as it hurried between flowers - _white, purple, yellow, purple, yellow, red, yellow, purple._

She hurried from the flowers, feeling inadequate amongst their beauty with her bitten fingernails and bruises and grimy clothes.

Blake was hit with a need to _look_ at someone who didn’t view her as a hindrance, an object, a _toy._

She was standing at her parents’ door before she knew it.

The door opened, and Blake nearly ran, but held her ground.

“Blake?”

-

They welcomed her back with relief - Blake melted into their embrace, letting a part of herself rest.

After teary words and Blake telling her family _she was not going to leave, she always remembered them, she was safe_ \- she avoided the word _promise_ though, for something hurt whenever she thought of the word.

Still, Blake wasn’t done; if destiny was a red thread, she was about to unravel.

So she found herself at the doorstep to Ruby’s house, looking at the building.

It had aged considerably since she had last been here, rushing out the door in a dizzied haze. The boards were faded and gray, retaining only hints of their original color. Ivy crawled up a large patch of the walls, nearly creeping into one of the windows.

 _It looks different,_ Blake thought faintly.

Blake was so weary she didn’t realize she had knocked on the door before it swung open.

She stared into bright eyes and caught a hint of Yang - Blake’s heart rose in her throat before she realized the eyes were _silver,_ and they were going wide and -

 _Ruby_ stared at her from across the threshold, still wearing the same crimson sweater from all those months before, except it was less large, Ruby filling out the folds more. She’d _grown,_ Blake realized with a start - the red streaks in her hair were darker, her eyes less carefree.

But Ruby finally gave in; she opened and closed her mouth a few times before asking, _awestruck,_ “Is it really you?”

Blake nodded.

And immediately Ruby was flying at her with a hug, squeezing Blake so hard Blake swore her ribs cracked - then Ruby was stepping back, and her eyes were shining with joy.

“I _knew_ you’d come back,” Ruby said simply, poking Blake hard in the side and looking apologetic when Blake winced. “Sorry about that. I wanted to make sure you were real, not like a ghost or something. Although I feel you deserve more pokes for putting us through your absence.”

Blake felt the guilt wash over her - _nine months._

There was movement behind them - Weiss appeared behind Ruby, looking disgruntled. “Ruby, you know that ghosts don’t exist.”

“Yes they do, and you know it,” Ruby said snippily, and Blake felt the beginnings of a smile creep onto her face. She was still standing in the dark shadows outside; Weiss must’ve not known who Ruby was speaking to. “Remember when that glass fell over _on its own?_ That’s full-on ghost activity.”

“That was Zwei knocking against the table,” Weiss replied coolly, then she caught sight of Blake standing behind Ruby. Her hands flew to her face, covering her mouth, and she peered at Blake with wide eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Oh.” Ruby grew quiet at the sudden tension, and gave a nervous laugh. “Blake came back, so…” she waved her hands weakly in the air but quickly dropped them.

“Hello, Weiss,” Blake murmured.

Weiss got over her shock quickly - she stepped forward and embraced Blake briefly before ushering her inside. Blake folded herself onto the couch, Ruby dropping next to Blake, fingers wrapped around bowl of forgotten cereal.

“Here.” Weiss passed Blake a cup of tea, stirring something into her own mug. “Drink this.”

Blake watched the usually unflappable girl take a seat next to Blake, taking a sip of her own tea; Weiss grimaced but forced it down. Both Ruby and Weiss were pressing Blake into the couch, almost as if preventing her from leaving again. Guilt was making Blake’s throat close. She didn’t drink her tea.

They sat in silence for a moment, Weiss drinking her tea unusually fast, cringing every time she took a sip. Finally, Ruby spoke, her face scrunched in distaste: “Did you put tequila in your cup?”

Weiss choked on her next gulp. Blake blinked.

“I’ve had… a shock,” Weiss finally said, her voice only slightly strangled. “It’s what you may call an _unhealthy coping mechanism_.”

Blake laughed at that; her voice coming out rough but warming up to the sound. Ruby joined in the snickering, and even Weiss smiled a little bit, carefully placing her cup onto the table.

Blake’s momentary peace was shattered when Ruby’s phone vibrated from its place on the couch; she picked it up and squinted at the screen. “Yang’s coming in five minutes,” she read, and Blake felt her world spin underneath her feet.

_Yang -_

_I promised -_

_I left -_

_I’m sorry -_

Blake can taste smoke in her throat, almost as if embers were boiling in her stomach, and she flinched, unused to the heat.

“I’m -” Her words stuck in her throat, and Weiss and Ruby exchanged a glance. Weiss concerned, Ruby nervous.

“You should talk to her,” Ruby said, immediately sober. Her silver eyes flashed with an unknown emotion - maybe relieving memories. “It was bad, Blake. She was a total mess when you left - which, I’m still not sure _why,_ but you should tell Yang. Weiss and I can wait.”

“We’ll leave you alone,” Weiss added softly. She moved so that Blake was staring directly into her eyes, unable to look away. “I’m sure both of you have unsaid things we won’t understand -” Ruby made a muffled noise, and Weiss shushed her with a glare - “Because it was _bad,_ Blake. I think you leaving broke Yang in some way.”

Blake nodded dully, the words _I’m sorry_ and _I promised_ rising to her throat, crumpling against her lips. She opened her mouth to say something, she wasn’t sure what, but then the door slammed open and _Yang was there, standing in the doorframe, and she’d changed, lilac eyes faded, gauze wrapped around knuckles, ragged clothes and -_

_\- and she was staring at Blake._

Blake was standing too, rising to meet Yang’s eyes - the withering force of it, the emotion rocking Blake worse than any of Adam’s words. Yang looked like someone who was carved out of marble had been given a beating heart once more, pieces of stone cracking, flaking away, shattering into pieces.

Dimly, she heard Weiss shoving Ruby towards the stairs - Ruby’s anguished whisper, _“- never seen her look that way -”_ \- Weiss’s reply - _“shit - you didn’t text her, let her know before?”_ \- before they were climbing up the stairs and Blake and Yang were alone in the room together.

Yang was still staring at Blake, watching her, lips slightly parted. Blake took Yang in with equal fervor - they had both _changed,_ Yang was less candlelit fire, no longer an inferno - smoldering embers and ashes drifting aside her arms, harsh sparks in her eyes, and Blake felt once more like she could be set alight.

_Just the once -_

“Yang?” Blake whispered.

Something cracked in Yang’s expression - she stumbled back, arms outstretched. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no, _fuck,_ I thought - stop haunting me -”

Blake moved forward and Yang took one more broken look at her before turning on her heel and _dashing,_ running away. Blake didn’t even hesitate - her concern and worry flared and pushed aside her hurt and guilt; she followed Yang down the steps, through the woods.

She breathed deep as she ran - following that flicker of gold, that lick of flame as it ran through the trees, stumbling over twist, brushing by trees and leaves and wildflowers.

Finally, _finally,_ Yang stopped. She was in a clearing, a faint opening in the dense thickness of woods - propped against a tree, breathing, breathing, _breathing._

Blake stood in the shadows, watched Yang as she inhaled, and her thoughts strayed briefly to the warmth of her breath.

Finally, Yang looked up - she looked ages older than her real age, shoulders slumped. “Why do you do this? Appear everywhere I go?” Yang let out a bitter laugh and continued, “You’re usually in the corner of my room when I open my eyes; the hallways of the school or under that tree, holding your books. Gone before I can blink. Sometimes, I keep my eyes open just so I can see you longer.”

Yang tangled her hands in her hair before murmuring, “You’ve never _followed_ me before.”

Blake said nothing - just picked her way to where Yang was slumped, crouching amongst the grasses. Careful not to touch Yang - who looked like she was about to bolt at any second - she sank to the rushes and said, with all the gentleness she could muster, “Yang Xiao Long.”

Yang looked at Blake with half-lidded eyes. “You speak sometimes, too. I hear your voice even when you’re not there - on that stupid voicemail message you keep on your phone, before I deleted your number even though I know it by heart - maybe I’m going crazy, but I can’t, I have to _remember you._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Blake rushed; she couldn’t stop it from spilling out, she let it gush forth like cold water, drenching her fingertips and lips. “I’m sorry I ever left you, I’m sorry I ran from you -. I know I didn’t deserve your kindness and care, and I still don’t - I’m sorry, Yang, I’m sorry -”

Yang was still watching her, but made no move to leave - still, some of the muddled look was leaving her eyes, replaced with confusion. Blake barrelled on, wanting, _needing,_ to redeem herself to Yang.

“I was part of the White Fang,” Blake confessed, and Yang’s eyes opened wide at that - “I was with Adam, and he and a few other friends wanted to stage protests; they were harmless at first, but then they escalated into something more dangerous. That night, it was _me - Adam -_ we set the fire, it got out of hand and destroyed the building and we were caught on camera - I was too young and foolish and -” Blake gritted her teeth, forced the words out - _“trusting_ in Adam, so when he told me to run, I did. I ran away from you - if you stayed with me, you would’ve been marked, I would’ve been caught, and you and Ruby and Weiss -”

Blake took a deep breath. “I’ve made mistakes,” she whispered, “And they escalated, and the crimes grew worse and Adam grew angrier, he started _hurting me_ -” Yang’s eyes flashed - “and I regret all of them, but the one I regret most was leaving _you._ ”

“You promised,” Yang repeated, although she was looking more and more unsure, and Blake willed her to _believe_ that she was here, that Blake was never going to leave again. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

Blake nodded at that, tears wetting her eyes. “I know,” she choked, “I made a wrong choice and I’m asking you to forgive me - maybe not now, maybe not in a year, maybe not in your _lifetime_ \- but I need you to know I’m never, _ever,_ leaving you again.”

Yang lifted a hand, trembling, and it brushed Blake’s face - just underneath her eyelid, on the sensitive skin, and Blake shuddered at the touch. When she looked back into Yang’s eyes, they were brimming with tears, spilling over her lashes.

“Blake,” Yang breathed, _finally,_ her voice vulnerable and open and accepting, and Blake drew in a shuddering breath before drawing Yang into a hug, wrapping her arms around the other girl, burying her face and tears in the wild tangle of gold curls, and Yang clutched her back and sobbed, repeating her name over and over again, and Blake whispered Yang’s name into her hair.

And with Yang curled in her arms, Blake’s fingers tangled in gold, she could _finally_ relax - and the screams of her past faded away, drowned out by the soft sounds of Yang’s voice.

“I won’t leave you, Goldilocks,” Blake promised, so soft only she heard. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ insert gif of oprah releasing the bees ]
> 
>  
> 
> i'm also thinking of writing a road trip au, so...? thoughts?


	8. 1 day before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the second time that day, Ruby understood. 
> 
> “Yang,” Ruby said slowly, clearly. “Do you _love_ Blake?”
> 
> Yang’s hands dropped. She wouldn’t meet Ruby’s eyes, just looked at the book lying by her feet.
> 
> “I fell in love with a girl who read too many books and called me ‘Goldilocks’,” Yang whispered. “I fell in love with a girl who was my first dance. I fell in love with _that girl_ , but I can’t - I’m not sure, I _want to believe_ \- but I don’t know if she’s really the girl that came back.”

_ 1 day before: _

****

Ruby doesn’t know what to do.

Blake is back in their lives, and Ruby welcomes that. She’s happy when she spots Blake’s slight form slipping to and from the kitchen, when the dishes are neatly stacked and Weiss is still typing her essays - because Ruby sure doesn’t do the dishes unless she has to - or when she finds more and more books missing from the shelves, along with a large dog-eared volume of fairytales.

Ruby’s grown used to Blake being back in their lives, maybe the most used of them all, and she finds Weiss’s careful, cautious mannerisms around Blake uncomfortable.

Yang is usually never around. If anything, she’s an even fainter shadow than Blake. They must’ve talked about  _ something  _ \- Ruby can feel the tension in the air - but there’s something else.

_ “I hope they talked about it,” a slightly intoxicated Weiss said, flapping her hands at Ruby in her room after dragging her quite rudely up the stairs. “They need to talk about it.” _

_ “Talk about what?” Ruby had asked, confused. “That Blake left?” _

_ Weiss rolled her eyes with more movement than usual. “No, you dummy. Well, yes. No. There’s something else.” She waved her hands again and blinked at Ruby meaningfully. _

_ “Oh.” Ruby squinted at Weiss. “What?” _

_ Weiss sighed. She was shaking her head slowly, drooping. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand, anyways.” _

_ Ruby was indignant. “You may be my best friend, but I think you underestimate my comprehensive skills. Also, I think you poured too much tequila in your tea.” _

_ Weiss nodded. “A horrible decision, really.” She sighed and seemed to sober a little. “There’s something between Blake and Yang. Something big, life-changing. And if they don’t acknowledge it, it’s going to burn both of them alive from the inside.” _

And after that, Ruby  _ does  _ notice something - maybe when Blake’s hands linger over a book, eyes tracking Yang for a second too long as she slips from the room - long, unbroken moments when they catch each other’s eyes and can’t pull away. Maybe it’s when Yang locks herself in her room and stays quiet so that she won’t be bothered, but Ruby comes in because she  _ knows  _ Yang is hurting and Yang needs her, and they hold each other, silent - Ruby hadn’t seen Yang cry in a long, long time, and Ruby  _ knows  _ it’s for her, so Ruby doesn’t have to see her older sister broken, but she needs to do something.

Still, she does what she can, and Blake seems to be becoming more and more relaxed as time goes by, and Yang stays in the same room as her for longer and longer. Still, nothing much has changed, bright and dark shadows flitting around each other with barely a few words passed between them, yet something is charging the air, a tension that Ruby thinks may snap any moment.

Ruby’s home after a particularly trying day at school - she tossed her books on the table, ready to go to her room and maybe climb onto the roof to stew, a fact that she hasn’t told Yang about - Weiss caught her up there once, and Ruby had to be extra careful after that. Knowing your best friend and your sister were  _ both  _ on your case at all times was enough to make anyone go crazy. Ruby thinks she’s held up pretty well.

But all her thoughts disappear once she passes Yang’s room, usually silent, and hears a muffled sound. Repetitive, small and slight, cracking every other breath.

Ruby pushes open the door quietly and sees  _ Yang,  _ curled on the floor, slumped against the foot of her bed with a book lying open by her feet.

Yang is  _ crying,  _ tears running down her face and dripping down her chin, her curls hanging limp and face tilted down towards the book. Tears dripped from her skin and onto her palms, Yang making no move to wipe them away or even get out.

Ruby opens the door wider, concern flashing over her for her sister, who’s  _ hurting  _ \- Ruby feels it in her chest and asks quietly, “Yang?”

Yang jerks her head up at that, her eyes puffy and face wrecked. The look in her eyes is so  _ torn,  _ lost and alone and broken - Ruby sinks to the floor and wraps her arms around her sister, pulling her in close, and is thankful she has a huge hoodie to offer extra comfort.

Ruby feels Yang relax incrementally into her hold, still sniffling - after a few moments, Ruby carefully gets up and shuts the door, then pulls the blanket from Yang’s bed to wrap around her sister’s shaking shoulders.

Finally, Yang slows - tears are still welling from her eyes, but more slowly than before, and she draws in a shaky breath. Ruby waits - these things take time. She did it before, nine months ago, when Blake first left - she was  _ terrified  _ Yang would tear herself apart that day, something she hasn’t told even Weiss, but slowly Yang stitched herself together into the older sister, and Ruby hasn’t said a word about it since.

“Oh, god.” Yang drew a hand over her eyes, and Ruby hugged her tighter. “Rubes, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t ever say that again,” Ruby said fiercely. “Never. I don’t want to hear the word ‘sorry’ come out of your mouth, no matter what happens. Except if you sic Zwei onto my cookie stash, and even then, I’ll always forgive you.” Yang let out a muffled laugh at that, still shaky, but Ruby counted it as a victory. “You’ve always been there for me, but you need to remember I’m still there for  _ you. _ ”

Yang drew in a shuddering breath at that. “God, Ruby -”

“I love you,” Ruby told Yang firmly. “You’re my sister and I’ll always love you. Now, tell me what’s wrong and we can work through it together.”

“I love you too, Rubes,” Yang whispered, and they clutched each other for a moment. Ruby felt, for a brief moment, like their roles had been reversed; Ruby as the caretaker, Yang as the child. But it passed in a fleeting second and Yang was drawing the book closer, flipping through the pages, and Ruby noticed with a frown that it was the same volume of fairytales Blake had been reading earlier.

“Is that -”

“Blake’s? Yes,” Yang murmured, still turning the pages with reverence. “I was looking for it - I needed to read, and it was on the shelf, and apparently she wrote  _ notes. _ ”

Ruby paused, flipping to one of the pages - bookmarked by a folded piece of origami paper, probably one of Weiss’s - it read,  _ Goldilocks and the Three Bears. _

“She used to call me Goldilocks,” Yang explained, her voice shaking only the slightest, “Because it was my favorite.”

Ruby trailed her fingers over the littlest bear in thought. “I liked that fairytale.” Squinting at the pages, she saw written words, scrawled on the margins of the pages. One next to Goldilocks’s bright curls read  _ not wild enough  _ \- the words “dazzling eyes” were underlined multiple times - and at the end, Blake had written  _ i wish i was just right. _

Ruby frowned. The way Blake had written the messages -

“There’s more,” Yang murmured, flipping to another fairytale. Ruby scanned the page.

_ Beauty and the Beast. _

Belle’s description, up to the Beast, left Ruby feeling more bewildered by the second. Blake’s notes were more crazed, hurried, trailing over themselves and tripping up and down along the pages. Ruby read them -  _ am I Belle? she ran - she left for a better -  _ that one stopped abruptly.

The next page was next to the description of the Beast, just a phrase -  _ wild - there is nothing of him in the Beast -  _ there was a word scribbled as well, starting with  _ A,  _ but it was so rushed Ruby couldn’t decipher it.

Finally, up till the part where Belle ran away, there was an almost indecipherable string -  _ gone - i left - i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry - _

But Ruby knew, Ruby had read this book and knew all the characters by heart, and when Belle came back to the Beast she could see the letters by the ending -  _ i wish i could tell her i love -  _ unfinished.

Ruby read the last word, and her heart stopped and started again, and something clicked and she  _ knew,  _ she realized what Blake was saying and she wondered how she didn’t see it sooner.

_ Weiss was right. _

Blake  _ loved - _

And Yang was sitting, curled on the edge of the room, tearstains streaking her face but stitching herself together almost instantaneously, and Ruby was both glad and hurt for her sister.

“Well,” Ruby said finally, gently pushing the book over to Yang, “Do you understand what she wrote?”

Yang looked anguished. “I don’t know, Rubes, I don’t - you do know I kept seeing her everywhere, but it wasn’t just that - it hurt so much, and she’s  _ here  _ and it should’ve stopped and it  _ has  _ but some of it’s still there and I can’t, I don’t understand -”

“Do you trust Blake?” Ruby asked, gently, and Yang buried her head in her hands.

“I do, I do,” Yang spilled, her words tripping and stumbling like Blake’s hurried notes. “I  _ do,  _ I just need to know for  _ sure,  _ why did she come  _ back _ ? I need to know if - I need to tell her -”

For the second time that day, Ruby understood. 

“Yang,” Ruby said slowly, clearly. “Do you  _ love  _ Blake?”

Yang’s hands dropped. She wouldn’t meet Ruby’s eyes, just looked at the book lying by her feet.

“I fell in love with a girl who read too many books and called me ‘Goldilocks’,” Yang whispered. “I fell in love with a girl who was my first dance. I fell in love with  _ that girl, _ but I can’t - I’m not sure, I  _ want to believe  _ \- but I don’t know if she’s really the girl that came back.”

Ruby leaned her head against Yang’s shoulder, offering support and comfort. Yang was warm next to her, steady under the blanket. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “You should ask. Talk to her, Yang. As your sister,” she added in a mock-threatening voice, and Yang half-laughed at that - “I order you to talk to Blake Belladonna.”

Yang breathed out, and Ruby waited patiently.

One moment. Two moments.

“Okay,” Yang murmured. 

-

Weiss is concerned.

She flips to another page in her book and turns to her essay again. 

Weiss needs this due by tomorrow, but the thing is, it’s so hard to  _ concentrate  _ when a wired explosion - metaphorically speaking - is primed to set off, mainly caused by two factors: Blake and Yang.

She  _ knows  _ Blake had ran from something, and had ran back, but it wasn’t in her place to ask. She  _ knows  _ Yang was broken for days after Blake left, and the girl had taken some piece of her as well. Weiss  _ knows,  _ and the most important thing was to make sure the two got over their fraught peace, their broken silences.

Ruby didn’t understand as well. Weiss knows that Ruby can sense the tension, probably notices more of the girls’ movements than she does - but not  _ what  _ is causing it.

So she makes it her mission - grabbing up her sheaf of papers firmly with one hand and the book with the other, Weiss marches downstairs and drops them on the table. Blake looks up, startled, from the volume she was reading.

Ruby and Yang were nowhere to be seen - probably upstairs.  _ Perfect,  _ Weiss thinks.

“Weiss,” Blake said quietly, folding her book closed. “What brings you downstairs?”

Weiss flashed a cautious smile. “You read a lot, right?”

Blake frowned, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Excellent.” Weiss slid her book across the table to Blake - a gold-gilded copy of  _ Snow White.  _ Blake was startled at the cover, Weiss saw - she started a little and squinted at the pages, running her fingers over the title.

“Professor Ozpin assigned something to our class,” Weiss explained. “We each had to write an essay about a certain fairytale he assigned us and  _ why  _ we could connect to it - honestly, it was pretty startling, which one he chose for me.”

Blake looked from the book to Weiss, and gave a faint smile. “I guess I can see why.”

Weiss rolled her eyes and ignored the white lock of hair hanging by her eyes.  _ White, Snow White, very funny, Ozpin.  _ “I think he assigned Little Red Riding Hood to Ruby.  _ That  _ one fits - including fighting an entire wolf. If Ruby had enough caffeine, she’d take it down no problem.”

Blake laughed at that, her face creasing. Weiss waited for a second, then pressed forward.

“Ruby said once,” Weiss continued, her voice lower and more careful, “That Yang’s favorite fairytale was Goldilocks.”

Blake stiffened, her fingers dropping from the tome. It was only then that Weiss noticed the book lying by Blake’s side -  _ Beauty and the Beast. _

After a few moments of tense silence - Blake chewing her lip, a sorrowful and faraway look in her eyes - Weiss nodded towards her book.

“Is that yours?” she asked, and there was a underlying question -  _ is that you, is that your tale  _ \- and Blake nodded assent. 

“Beauty and the Beast,” Blake explained with a wry smile. “I don’t understand half of it myself.”

“Sometimes stories are an extension of ourselves,” Weiss prodded gently - she didn’t want to overstep boundaries, but she could  _ tell  _ Blake needed to say the words, even if it was to herself. “Sometimes we see ourselves - and other people - in our stories.”

Blake dropped her gaze to the pages. “I feel something of myself in Belle,” she whispered. “That part I can acknowledge. But - I thought -” Blake seemed to force the words from her throat -  _ “Adam  _ was Beast. And I could see it too - lovely and strange, seemingly a menace to others but kind to me.”

Weiss raised an eyebrow and thought of two different people - she  _ had  _ seen Adam before, on the blurred TV screens her father angrily yelled at, with each missing package and misplaced order, and she felt a brief flare of anger but tamped it down immediately - one with red hair, the other with gold.

“Now, I don’t know,” Blake continued, “Because I hang onto stories to keep me sane, heroes to save my life, and I keep thinking -  _ what if I’m wrong? what if Adam is my destiny?  _ \- because Belle left him, she did, but Beauty  _ always  _ comes back to the Beast, and I don’t -”

Blake suddenly subsided, her face going pale.

Weiss thought of the words -  _ Beauty always comes back to the Beast  _ \- and turned them over and over in her mind. She thought of strangely-hued creatures and impossibly aggravating suitors, and a girl clutching a book torn between the two, and she  _ saw but Blake didn’t. _

“Beauty always comes back to the Beast,” Weiss repeated slowly. “Now, why did Beauty  _ leave  _ the Beast in the first place?”

“She went to see her father,” Blake murmured, head shaking.

Weiss continued - she  _ needed  _ to continue. “And when she saw her father, she realized something else - she realized the horrible, corrupt suitor she turned down was going to hurt those she loved.” Blake nodded. “And  _ what  _ did she do after?”

“She went back to the Beast,” Blake repeated, her face going softer with confusion. “And realized she loved the Beast. But - I don’t -”

“Beauty  _ left  _ the Beast,” Weiss repeated, and abruptly realized they were saying  _ Beauty  _ instead of  _ Belle,  _ and she had heard that word  _ before,  _ and it only helped hammer in her resolve. “But she  _ came back  _ because she  _ realized  _ she  _ loved  _ him _. _ ”

Weiss saw the exact moment when Blake realized what she was trying to say - Blake’s head dropped and rose immediately, hope sparking alight in her eyes, fingers curling on the pages, mouth tugging in disbelief and awe. “Weiss -”

Weiss shrugged. “All I’m saying is, maybe fairytales are real. And maybe we do live in them. And sometimes - maybe you’re reading the words wrong, and you believe you only have one future, but then the path in the woods has a house at the end, and you realize you’ve already been on the right track all along.”

Blake reached across the table and squeezed Weiss’s hand - Weiss returned it, allowing herself to fully beam across the table at the girl who had returned. 

“Go talk to her, Blake,” Weiss said softly. “Go talk to Yang.”

Blake lowered her head - at the words, at the ending,  _ happily ever after  _ scrawled on the end of the page - and murmured, “I will.”

-

Late in the night - Blake tossing and turning on the couch, replaying words over and over in her mouth until her mind fell into a well-worn track;  _ I love you, I love you, it has always been you.  _

She had seen Yang that night - accidental brushes of the wrist, the normal gazes, except Weiss and Ruby were looking worn but pleased, sprawled together on the couch, occasionally sneaking glances at Blake and Yang - and had pulled her aside.

_ “I need to tell you something,” Blake had whispered. _

_ Yang nodded, her eyes going soft for a moment. Blake was still holding Yang’s wrist, and her pulse pounded loudly against her fingertips, blood rushing under skin. “I do, too.” _

_ They stood together for a moment, framed in the doorway, soft shadows sliding under Yang’s chin, brushing her eyelashes, and if Blake leaned up, she could just kiss the tip of her nose, her forehead, her lips - _

_ Yang pulled away with an audible breath and Blake stumbled back at the same time, and they tripped over words. _

_ “Maybe later -” _

_ “Tomorrow would be best -” _

_ Blake pulled at her fingers. They watched each other for a moment, and Blake allowed herself to feel fond, soft, breakable. _

_ “Tomorrow,” Blake repeated, and the faint ghost of a smile flitted across Yang’s face.  _

_ “Tomorrow,” she echoed, and they slipped away, Blake feeling empty and euphoric all at once. _

Blake was on the edge of sleep.

_ Tomorrow - _

A loud, abrasive ring shattered her consciousness - she bolted upright, hand reaching for her wrists to protect them - shaking hair out of her eyes, heart pounding, Blake located the source of the noise.

The kitchen phone, ringing loudly on the edge of the counter.

It was the darkest part of night; sleep dragged away the confusion, the wariness. It was just Blake and the dark room and the phone, inistiently ringing.

Blake stumbled over to the phone - without thinking, only meaning to turn off the phone - she picked it up and held it to her ear.

“Hello?”

_ “Hello, love.”  _ A voice scraped on the other side and Blake froze as if she had been doused in ice-cold water, and her fingers were starting to grow numb, and she could hear  _ his  _ voice all over again, and it wasn’t  _ real, this wasn’t happening, no no no no no - _

His breath, ragged on the other side of the line.  _ “I told you that you would never escape me. Isn’t that right, love?” _

Blake’s breath was becoming ragged and shallow. “Go away,” she whispered into the phone weakly. “Go away, you’ve haunted me long enough, leave me alone -”

_ “You didn’t think it would be this easy?”  _ Adam laughed carelessly, and Blake was three months younger, cold and shaking.  _ “I know where you are. I know who you’re staying with. They’re not safe with you, darling, they never will be.” _

“No,” Blake gasped, her throat going hot. “No. You’re not going to hurt them. You will not -”

Her mind flashed - Ruby, sleeping upstairs, Weiss, in the guest room, Yang, maybe awake, sitting in her room, and she felt something crack under her ribs.

_ “Tomorrow,”  _ Adam spat.  _ “Tomorrow, love. If you don’t come back, before I destroy you, I will burn everything you love.”  _ His voice lowered, almost sweetly.  _ “Starting with  _ her _.” _

Blake slammed the phone into its place - it cracked against the receiver and shattered in half, but the damage had been done - she was sobbing breathlessly, jamming her hands into her mouth to bite down on the tears, crying as if she was back in the White Fang, being torn apart.

_ No, no, no - _

Except this time, there was something  _ different  _ \- Yang, bounding down the steps, her hair sleep-mussed and eyes wild and burning - Blake distantly saw her, reached for her, bitten knuckles and bleeding mouth where she’d bitten through her lip, and Yang saw the broken phone and girl in front of her, and reached for Blake first.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Yang murmured, nonsense words, soft cooing and babbling nonsense and old endearments but it grounded Blake, blindly throwing her arms around Yang’s neck. “Shh, it’s all right, you’re all right, I got you, Beauty, you’re going to be okay…”

Blake let Yang carefully pull her up the stairs, Blake stumbling on the steps - finally, Yang turned around and scooped her up, strong and gentle like Blake was made of china, and Blake couldn’t keep her breathing steady but she clung to Yang with all the strength she had.

Already, she was slipping into unconsciousness, her mind fighting against itself - but this time, Yang was there, a warm weight against her, still talking, murmuring into Blake’s hair. “I’m here, Beauty,” she repeated over and over again, and it was enough to lull Blake into sleep, drown out Adam’s voice scraping in the back of her mind.

_ I’ll always be here, Beauty. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmMMMM THINGS ARE AMPING UP


	9. the day of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Blake?” Yang asked, her voice small.
> 
> Something rose in Blake’s throat - something in Yang’s voice reminded her of younger times, the girl who would do anything for her sister, who loved and loved and loved even if it was too much of her heart to ask.
> 
> Yang’s eyes were fire, and Blake was burning from their gaze.
> 
> “Okay,” Blake said softly. “Okay.”

_ the day of: _

 

_ Blake is standing in the middle of a cold, empty room. She’s frozen to the core, empty and useless. _

I wish there was heat,  _ she says without opening her mouth.  _ I wish there was fire.

_ Almost as if someone had heard her, warmth started drifting from the floor - Blake winds her arms around her shoulders, her limbs shuddering and numb. She’s fixated on the warmth, defrosting her limbs, that she doesn’t notice the edges of the room spark alight. _

_ And when she does see the embers, they are nearly at her feet. Coals and flame lick at her boots, tinder falls around her. Still, Blake is shivering, an inferno burning around her, ice lodged in her heart. _

I need heat,  _ she begs, even though the ground is cracking apart in a myriad of ashes and sparks.  _ I need fire.

_ Blake’s flesh is burning - she can hear it, can see it, peeling off her bones. Still, there’s nothing, not even a trace of feeling - she’s freezing from the inside out, and blindly reaches for the embers, cradling them in her ruined hands.  _ Fire,  _ she gasps, and somehow is pushing them into her chest, an empty, gaping hole - she screams at the sudden heat, the pain, the relief. _

_ The only thing she feels before she crumbles into ash is an overwhelming warmth, wrapping around her bones, encircling her heart. _

_ The last thing she hears is an anguished cry, a shrill scream.  _

Blake wakes up.

For a moment she freezes, panicked, nearly trapping herself in the sheets. She drags her fingers up, reaching; they hit warm flesh that doesn’t belong to her and tangle in gold locks.

Blake breathes, drags in a breath; she’s dazedly confused, still wallowing in sleep - Yang murmurs beside her as the piercing call continues in Blake’s ears.

It comes to her - the sound she hears is from a phone  _ ringing. _

Blake’s still trapped between waking and sleeping - she can only watch as Yang rubs at her eyes, catching sight of Blake, watching her face soften for a microsecond before it’s gone and she’s slipping out of bed.

The ringing stops - the silence lasts only for a moment before it starts again, shrieking. Yang reaches for the phone, and Blake yells at herself to  _ get up,  _ and it’s coming back, why she’s here in Yang’s room in the first place -  _ Adam _ \- she pushes away from the bed as Yang hits  _ answer call  _ on her phone.

“Ruby?” Yang asks, her face filling with confusion. “Why are you calling me in your literature class?”

Relief washes through Blake - she waits on the edges of Yang’s personal space, words bubbling on her tongue. She needs to explain, to reassure Yang - keep her safe - keep them all away from  _ him. _

But Yang’s face is hardening, transforming. She hisses sharp and quick, a rushed set of instructions, words tripping over each other. “What - why? Are you all right? Is everybody -”

The call shuts off suddenly and Yang is staring down at her phone, looking lost and forlorn with a look of terror on her face.

“Yang?”

“Ruby’s in trouble,” is all Yang says before she’s running out the door, phone forgotten, not bothering to take a sweater, and Blake pulls herself together and races after Yang.

-

Yang’s racing through the streets on her motorcycle, careening down sidewalks and cutting through alleys with a fervor that left Blake gasping for breath. She hung onto Yang, wrapping herself around her waist, feeling Yang’s body pressed against her own. 

The other girl was nearly vibrating with tension, and her knuckles were white on the bars. Blake kept her eyes closed through the entire ride, eyes squeezed shut against the wind.

She found herself leaning against Yang, her cheek pressed between the other girl’s shoulder blades. Even with her eyes closed, she could still hear Yang’s ragged breathing, inflating her chest, and Blake stretched up.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, and she wasn’t sure if Yang heard her through the howling wind, but the tension in Yang’s shoulders loosened. “I’m with you. We’ll find Ruby. We can do this together.”

Even as she was speaking, she fought the image of red hair and hard eyes in her mind.  _ If he had got to Ruby… _

Blake could smell  _ smoke. _

Her eyes peeled open, blurring against the wind, but it was enough. A thick column of smoke rose, spiraling into the sky, and Yang was heading straight towards it.

Nausea rose in Blake’s throat.

_ The high school. _

Yang pulled aside on the road, where a mess of cars were parked haphazardly. Sirens wailed in the distance as she nearly leaped off the bike, taking Blake’s hand and pulling her desperately to the school. Blake kept pace with her, squeezing Yang’s hand.

_ Keep everyone safe keep everyone safe keep everyone safe - _

They finally rounded a corner and Blake stopped short, her breath catching.

The academy was ablaze, smoke streaming through battered rooftops and timber crashing to the ground. Loud thuds and shouts and screams came from all around, mostly focused on the scorched wood and stones and the flame licking the foundations. 

Yang looked like she was about to throw up. “Ruby,” she whispered, eyes trained on the fire. “Oh, fuck, Weiss is in there too - they’re all in there -”

Blake could feel her panic rising in her throat, but she pushed it down, pushed away the memories of hysteria and terror.  _ Keep Yang safe,  _ she chanted in her mind.  _ Find Ruby. Find Weiss. Keep them safe - _

A group of kids, teenagers, all smoke-scorched and hacking up ash, were stumbling out of the building. Firefighters were crowding around them, around the school, but there weren’t enough of them to fully contain the blaze. 

A few teenagers were assisting the wounded - a blond young man and a redheaded student helped pull out a young boy with freckles from the wreckage, guiding him to a pair of students with black and orange-pink hair who ushered him away from the flames. 

Still, there weren’t enough, and the fire was still growing. 

“There was a gas leak,” the redheaded girl shouted; she stomped on some embers near her feet, attempting to put them out. “I smelled something strange a few seconds before the smoke came. I think something in the air may have triggered the fire!”

“The alarms didn’t go off,” the dark-haired boy yelled back, supporting a coughing student. “They would’ve if it was just an accident!”

A bolt of fear shot through Blake.

“Paramedics needed!” someone yelled, and people were being carried out on stretchers. Blake and Yang raced over to them, reaching out, gripping fabric and pulling people through. Blake could see Yang’s eyes roving around, searching for silver eyes, and with each passing second her face fell further.

“There are more people in there!” a man yelled; he had dark hair and piercing eyes, fingers worrying at the pendant of an askew cross around his neck. “We need to get them out; the damn firefighters are going to come in about ten minutes!”

“Qrow!” Yang yelled, her voice cracked, and he briefly turned and locked eyes with her. “Qrow, where’s Ruby?”

“I saw her,” he shouted back, voice hoarse with smoke - Yang’s shoulders relaxed incrementally - but he continued, “There are still a few classes that haven’t come out, she said she was going in to get them; I couldn’t stop her!”

“She’s still in there?” Yang cried, voice nearly breaking, gesturing at the inferno.

Qrow’s eyes dimmed; he looked worn and faded and beaten. “We have to keep looking,” he shouted, and a girl was crying in the background, people were hacking up lungs and he turned away, reached for stumbling forms and guided them away from the flames.

The flames licked up goalposts, down stones. Yang looked terrible in the light, heat washing over Blake.

At that moment, a large chunk of the roof crumbled, collapsing with a resounding crash into the rooms below. A large streak of flame roared briefly, smoke billowing from the gap. Red flashed in Blake’s vision.

“Oh my god,” Blake choked.

“I’m going in,” she heard Yang say, her voice blurred like she was underwater, and Blake reached out blindly and grasped Yang’s hand. 

Yang looked at Blake, her eyes wide and pained. “Blake,” she nearly snarled, snapping against Blake’s wrist, muscles straining - “ _ let go _ -”

“No,” Blake yelled as loudly as she could, fear and something else straining her voice. “No, you’re not just going to  _ throw  _ yourself into the fire like you don’t give a damn about your safety - without thinking -”

_ “Ruby’s in there,”  _ Yang hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. She was so close to breaking through Blake’s grasp, and Blake’s fingers were slipping. “I’m not going to  _ leave  _ her to  _ die _ .”

Blake pulled,  _ hard,  _ and Yang stumbled in shock - Blake’s hand fell from Yang’s wrist and she reached up, wrapping her fingers around the back of Yang’s neck and forced the taller girl to look in her eyes.

A fraught moment passed. Blake could feel Yang’s hair curling around her fingers - still wild and tangled and as thick as it was years ago - she could feel Yang’s skin under her fingertips, flushed and hot and soft.

“Blake?” Yang asked, her voice small.

Something rose in Blake’s throat - something in Yang’s voice reminded her of younger times, the girl who would do anything for her sister, who loved and loved and loved even if it was too much of her heart to ask. 

Yang’s eyes were  _ fire _ , and Blake was burning from their gaze.

“Okay,” Blake said softly. “Okay.”

And she turned and ran  _ into  _ the flames, the building, screams of shock in her wake. Running  _ to  _ the fire,  _ to  _ the embers that caused her life to crumble and splinter and go up in smoke.

Except there was a hand in hers. A different kind of fire, the one that rebuilt, the one that pieced her life together and warmed it and turned it to gold.

Heat washed over Blake, felt like she was being punched in the face. She choked and swayed but kept pushing through, Yang’s hand steady in hers.

_ “There!”  _ Yang yells, pointing - through the wavering heat, Blake can see a hint of red fabric, wrapped around a trembling form -  _ Ruby, _ Blake thinks - and she pushes past a pile of tinder, crackling under her boots.

Ruby’s soot-smudged and her eyes are wide, their silver color still discernible through the smoke. “Yang,” she shouts, her voice cracking, and Yang reaches for her sister. They collide briefly in the midst of the inferno, wrapping each other in an embrace, Yang shaking slightly, but break apart fast.

A group of students are huddled behind Ruby, clinging to each other, singed clothes and sweaty faces. They’re older than Ruby but she’s led them this far, and they’re looking to her like she’s the leader of their group. Blake can see a streak of white hair in the back before Weiss is there, grasping Blake’s hands, and Blake squeezes back, feeling her relief crack over her face. 

“We need to find another exit!” Weiss yells - Blake nodded, and Ruby pulls away from Yang to quietly herd the students into an orderly group. 

“Stick together!” Ruby cried, her thin voice managing to carry over the roar of the flames. “Everyone, follow me - Weiss, you bring up the back. Yang, Blake, scout ahead, find a safe way to -”

A loud  _ CRASH  _ sounds from their right, and the scream of metal against wood - Blake flinches, Yang blanches. Ruby’s decidedly more shaken as she continues, “Let’s go!”

Blake sticks to her part well, pushing ahead. It seems forever, and she’s seeing burning flesh and scattered bones in her mind’s eye but fends the visions off, and offers a prayer to any gods watching from the heavens.

_ Please, please  _ -

_ “There!”  _ Her voice is cracked, but she doesn’t care - her eyes are filled with the gap in the wall, broken tinder littering the edge but relatively clear, jutting into the dusky, choked skies.  _ “There, there’s a way out!” _

Ruby doesn’t hesitate, pounding towards the gap, drawing the students with her - Blake pushes and shoves, moving students as urgently as she can in the right direction. Yang’s there with her, and they brush hands, move, skin sliding, and for a brief moment Blake feels a spark of hope, dangerous -  _ they’ll be all right  _ \- and Yang catches her eye and grins, battered and weary but with a hint of recklessness. They’re almost there, they’re going to make it.

And Blake makes a mistake.

It’s almost as if time had slowed down, a mockery of fate - she turns, looks behind for any more people, straggling students maybe - and sees something.

Maybe a wayward ember or a accidental catch of the light - crimson flashes in her mind’s eye and she stumbles, takes a step back. Weiss is calling her name frantically and Ruby’s yelling something, voice panicked and terrified and  _ Blake, run, please, the roof - _

Blake can only stare at the wavering shape, outlined in the flames.

Yang’s voice rises in a scream that lingers on the edges of Blake’s consciousness - it grates against her ears and she pulls away, turns, catches a final glimpse of Yang’s face, smudged like watercolors running, and timber crashes down between Blake and the exit. Shutting her off from her friends. Cutting her away from  _ Yang. _

Blake’s thrown back from the impact - fire roars and a wave of heat tosses her against the wall like a rag doll. Hot pain flared in her temple and through her side and she bit down hard to muffle her yell - something wet was trickling down her forehead and she could feel something sharp against her wrist.

Gasping in a desperate breath, she chokes on the air. It’s thick and clouded with an oily, smoky substance - too dense for smoke. Blake’s fingernails scrape against the concrete, scrabbling for a hold, and she freezes when she hears something.

The  _ crunch  _ of footsteps. 

Blake looks up.

A blurred figure wavers in her vision. Blake feels the heat radiating from them, burning up, and her mind whispers  _ goldilocks  _ before her eyes focus and heart freezes.

_ Adam.  _ He’s framed against the backdrop of hungry flames and wood, metal screeching somewhere in the distance. Blake’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to his face - his eyes are cool, hard as glass, emotionless. Numerous scabs and cuts have appeared on his temples and forearms, but what really caught Blake’s attention was the can hanging from his hip - and the small object clutched in his hand.

Terror spiked through Blake and she forced herself to her feet, muscles screaming. Something grated in her side whenever she moved, sending hot stabs of pain through her side, but she pushed aside the feeling, desperately looking for a way out.

Adam advanced still, his footsteps crunching on the debris. The flames rise around them like a mockery of everything Blake has fought for, burning like sacrifices on a pyre. All Blake can manage is a slight hobble - she drags her feet away, coughing on the smoke.

He finally stopped a few feet in front of Blake. For a moment, they stare at each other above the crackling fire, embers scattered.

Adam’s voice is soft, sorrowful. “I warned you, love.”

Blake’s vision is starting to waver. She sees the bottle hanging within his grasp, and the small box dangling from Adam’s fingers, and it clicks harshly in her mind.

_ Lighter fluid.  _

“You -” Blake tries. Her voice snags in her throat - she coughs, ash floating around her knees. “You did this.”

“I warned you,” Adam repeated gently, like he was speaking to a child. “You left me, Blake. You  _ knew  _ the consequences and you still decided that  _ your  _ fate triumphed our dream.  _ Our dream,  _ Blake. You abandoned me.”

“I was  _ afraid, _ ” Blake  _ yells,  _ and it feels like an agonizing catharsis, ripping the words from her chest and bone and flinging them at Adam. “It was never  _ my  _ dream, it was yours - I wanted safety, I wanted  _ equality,  _ but you turned it into tyranny and blood and rage.” She can see the angry clench of Adam’s jaw, and pushes on, feeling the hot lick of satisfaction as his demeanor slowly starts to crumble. “You  _ hurt  _ me, Adam. You choked and hit me and strangled your friends and took away  _ every sense of will I had _ , twisting everything  _ just for your dream.  _ Everything was for your corrupted sense of power.”

She’s in his face now, and Blake could see the way his eyes widened, skin paling, that he never thought she would stand up to him like this.

“You’re no better than them,” she spat savagely. “You’re a  _ monster _ .”

Adam’s face spasmed, and his hands shot out and grabbed her by the collar, dragging her against the ground. Pain screamed through Blake’s ankle and above her hip, spearing her side, and against her will she gave a small gasp of pain.

Still, she gritted her teeth and refused to cave. Adam growled and said, voice low and sweet and deadly, “You made a promise, Blake. You  said you’d help me follow our dream, but you left it for a  _ girl  _ \- you’d let her burn on a pyre rather than keep your promise to me, your heart?”

“I don’t love you,” Blake rasped. “I promised  _ my heart  _ to someone else.”

Adam’s eyes flickered in the light, and Blake drew in a shuddering breath, and then a yell broke through the chaos.

_ Yang.  _ One of her hands was badly blistered, skin a deep pink. She was cradling it against her chest, covered in soot and ash, but her eyes were burning as she faced Adam and Blake.

_ “Get away from her,”  _ Yang  _ screamed _ , and her hand was dripping blood onto the floor, splashing onto her boots, and Blake saw the gaping mess of tinder behind her, thrown to the floor from where Yang had stood, and her heart splintered.

Adam’s face didn’t change, but his grip loosened on Blake’s collar and she stumbled back, away from him, dropping to her knees on the ground. 

Yang’s face blazed and she  _ charged,  _ leaping over tinder and flames, and Blake’s vision split in gold and crimson and everything slowed. 

_ Her promise, you promised, you promised me - _

Adam’s hand flickered, to the side of his hip, the wrong side - Blake saw the glint of metal and Yang was drawing closer, plumes of smoke and glass and a beautiful, inexplicable creature, stone and starlight and Blake made a choice, connected the threads in her mind, and  _ moved. _

She threw herself up and grabbed Adam’s hand, forcing it to the side, as Yang’s fist was blocked by Adam’s free forearm, Yang curling her arm around Blake’s shoulders, whether relying on her for support or to draw the girl up, it was unknown. 

The three were all connected, frozen in their positions, muscles trembling and bones about to snap. Around them, the fire raged greedily, uncaring.

Adam’s teeth were gritted when he spoke. “You’re - the girl.”

“You bet I am,” Yang whispered, deadly. “And I’m about to make you pay for what you did to Blake.”

Adam’s sneer stuck in his throat.  _ “You’re  _ about to pay for what Blake did to  _ me. _ ”

“Never,” Blake growled.

Adam’s mouth twisted and Yang laughed, bright and shining. “We don’t die in this fairytale,” she said, low and clear. “But you, on the other hand…”

Yang’s fist tightened - the minute movement started Blake, who released her grip on Yang just as she pulled her injured hand back,  _ her free hand, _ and slammed it into Adam’s chest.

Two screams - one from Yang, one from Adam. Adam’s feet slipped back and Blake pushed his hand away from her, shoving his body away from her as hard as she could, and his feet slipped on shattered glass just as a screech came from the roof, burning tinder crashing to the ground and slamming into the ground between Adam and them. 

The last thing Blake saw was his sprawled body, crumpled against the snapped metal and wood, and a savage snarl on his face just as the flames rose and devoured the space between them.

Yang was swaying on her feet, eyes half-lidded crescents. “Blake,” she breathed, and Blake could only grasp her hand, thumbing the skin. “I wouldn’t leave you, Blake.”

“I promised,” Blake whispered back, and Yang was  _ kissing  _ her, leaning in, dry lips and warm breath. Her hand rose and tangled in Blake’s hair, and Blake clung back desperately, drinking in Yang like she was encased in ice and Yang was the only flame she had.

Yang broke away, cheeks flushed, somehow brighter than the inferno around them. Blake felt the words rising on the tip of her tongue, pressing against her lips.

“I love you,” she said, and it sounded like a promise. “Yang Xiao Long, I love you.”

Yang’s eyes flickered, her face changing. Shock and warmth and suddenly a spike of terror, and a horrifically loud sound cracked through Blake’s consciousness.

_ “Blake!”  _ Yang screamed, and the world cracked around Blake as she was sent crashing to the ground for the second time, a rush of hot air blowing through her consciousness, and the last thing she saw was Yang’s hands reaching for her and her eardrums splintering apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all those fire references weren't for nothing, eh
> 
> also i promise there's a happy ending


	10. after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake held Yang as she cried, holding her close as Yang clung onto Blake’s shirt, her hair, stroked Yang’s locks and cradled her and rocked back and forth and murmured soft words, scraps of poetry she had read ages ago, of lavender and honey and strange skies and faraway castles and burning fireplaces. She kept whispering, and it turned to softer words, promises of love and affection and devotion, until Yang’s gasps uncrumpled and calmed.
> 
> Yang’s eyes were fluttering shut, breathing slowing into drowsiness, and Blake cupped her cheek tenderly, holding the other girl carefully.
> 
> “I love you, Yang Xiao Long,” she promised gently, and curled around Yang as they both fell asleep.

_ after: _

 

When Blake woke up, the first thing she saw was a flash of gold.

She blinked, once in the dazzling light. It faded away in an instance, and she was aware of soft, cool sheets under her hands, a rhythmic beeping coming to her left.

Blake turned, eyes catching on the window. The sky was blue, no hint of gray. She exhaled a sigh of relief, letting her limbs uncurl.

There was a heavy weight on her side, and she brought hesitating fingertips to touch her side. Her hand hit stiff bandages, and a hot flare of pain shot through her when she tried to swing her legs out of the bed. The beeping spiked.

She fell against the bed, breathing hard, catching her breath. Worry and terror were starting to build in her chest, but she tamped it down, exhaling, reassuring herself.  _ He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. _

_ Yang,  _ her mind chose to whisper, and Blake tangled her fists in her sheets, casting for a memory.  _ Fire, burning embers, bruised knuckles. A scream and that sound, that sound -  _

“Blake?” Weiss appeared in the doorway, looking withdrawn and pale. She was wearing a shapeless sweater, hair loose and uncombed, still faintly streaked with ash. Still, a smile broke across her face as she crossed the room to throw her arms around Blake, curling around the other girl’s shoulders and drawing her close.

“Weiss,” Blake breathed. “You’re all right - you’re safe, what happened - did we make it? Where’s Yang?”

“Yang’s alive,” Weiss murmured, avoiding Blake’s eyes. Blake’s heart unclenched -  _ she’s all right.  _ Weiss carefully seated herself on the edge of Blake’s bed, her normally perfect posture slumped in one of exhaustion. “Ruby’s with her right now. Blake, we did it - everyone’s all right. Nobody died, except…” she cast her eyes to the ground, chewing her lip nervously.

“Adam,” Blake said calmly. She didn’t feel anything, just a cool hardness, when she said the name.  _ She beat him; she won.  _ “We lost him in the fire. He started it; I assume he was trying to target the school.”

Weiss nodded shortly. “The police found the weapons on his body when it was recovered. Do - do you remember anything, about what happened?”

“Adam confronted me,” Blake said slowly, trying the words. “He was threatening me - there was a standoff, Yang somehow broke through and managed to disarm him, even though one of her arms was injured… the roof caved in, and everything else…”

She nearly crumpled the sheets in frustration, but chose to smooth them out instead. “I don’t remember. The last thing I saw was Yang.”

_ I kissed her,  _ something in her mind whispered.

Weiss exhaled. “Once you were cut off from us, Yang told us to go on. She was obviously trying to find a way back to you - she might’ve hurt herself trying to get back to you. And then the roof caved in, and we could get through to you - Blake… you both were so  _ terrifying, _ ” she whispered, voice nearly cracking. “You had this deep wound across your chest -” Blake touched her bandage unconsciously - “and Yang, oh, Yang -”

“What?” Blake demanded. “You said she’s all right - what  _ happened?” _

Weiss shook her head faintly. “She must’ve pushed you out of the way when the roof fell,” she said softly. “Blake, it’s bad, you should rest - Ruby’s with her now, she’s going to be fine -”

A new terror was making its unwelcome way across Blake’s mind. It wasn’t the fear of  _ losing  _ your heart, breaking your promise - it was keeping it but it was too late, holding your half of the heart but the other withered away too fast for you to protect it.

She fumbled with the IV in her arm, breath coming fast -  _ calm,  _ she begged herself,  _ calm  _ \- and harshly unhooked it and Blake tore out of the room, stumbled on socked feet, knees wobbling and pressing a hand against her side when her breath came too sharp. 

Blake made it three steps outside her door when her legs gave out and she crashed against the wall, scrabbling for a hold. Her legs were shaking and her breath coming short - she willed her pain away, tried locking it down, but it burned hotly under her ribs.

Weiss came slipping out the room, hooking an arm underneath Blake’s shoulders and hoisting her up. “You  _ idiot, _ ” she huffed, although there was no bite in her voice, just a soft understanding. “You probably ripped your stitches, what were you thinking?”

“I need to find Yang,” Blake panted, breath short. “Need to find her.”

Weiss sighed softly but didn’t say anything, just continued leading Blake down the halls. Though she had reprimanded her, Blake knew the white-haired girl understood.

Blake and Weiss finally staggered into a wide room, even bigger than Blake’s. Blake’s eyes were briefly drawn to the fatigued form of Ruby, curled and passed out in one of two chairs next to Yang’s bedside. Still, her gaze was drawn to Yang, who was sprawled in the bed, gold hair tangled across the pillow and her eyes.

There was something  _ wrong,  _ in the picture. Blake shook her head, blinked twice. Something off, lopsided - like a snapped stem of a flower, a chair wobbling on three legs -

_ Oh. _

One of Yang’s arms was  _ gone _ , cut off at the stump.

Blake felt her stomach swirl and it was like the ground had dropped to the center of the earth - she stepped forward and nearly lost her balance. Weiss exhaled sharply - Blake shook her off, gently, eyes still fixed on the girl in the bed.

_ My fault,  _ she thought distantly, softly. Still, it was barely an echo - it was drowned out by the ache in her gut, the one that whispered  _ oh, love, why you? _

She made her way to Yang, who was shaking slightly, even in her fitful sleep - Ruby jerked awake, half-rubbing her eyes. Crescents of exhaustion were stamped underneath her eyes, wrapped in her singed crimson hoodie, but she still reached for Blake, pulled her into a brief hug, tears spilling down the corners of her eyes and running down her cheeks.

Before Blake could say anything - offer her own comfort - Ruby stood up, swaying slightly. “I’m happy you’re okay,” she whispered, her voice a tired croak.

Weiss’s face softened. “Ruby, you need to sleep. You’ve been with Yang for nearly 24 hours - Blake will take care of her.”

Ruby was about to argue, but a huge yawn interrupted her mid-sentence. She blinked slowly, sleepily, and finally nodded. “Talk with her,” she said thinly, her voice stretched like a rope, looking at Blake. “Make sure she isn’t lonely, okay?”

Weiss was there, holding Ruby’s arm - she supported the smaller girl, eventually pulling her up on her back and carrying her out of the room like a young child.  _ You two need each other,  _ she mouthed as she carried her best friend through the doorway.  _ Be there for her. _

Blake dropped into the empty chair - she leaned against the seat, watched Yang’s eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones, dusting faint flickers of light against her cheeks and lips. Yang’s hair was falling into her eyes - Blake reached out and carefully brushed her fingers through the other girl’s bangs, carding the heavy locks away from her face.

Time passed - Blake wandered in a half-gray daze, between waking up and sleeping. Through the faded curtain drawn over her eyes, she could still see Yang - not willing to leave her, not willing to let go of her so soon.

It was only when Yang inhaled sharply, eyes flashing open, that Blake was jerked from her twilight-tinted consciousness. Yang’s fingers jerked - flexed, like they were looking to grasp something - and gasped dazedly, reaching out. Her breath was already hitching, stumbling in panic and terror - Blake half rose and met Yang halfway, holding her hand. 

“Shh,” she whispered, voice raspy. “Shh, it’s going to be all right. I’m here - I’m here - I’m not leaving -”

Yang’s limbs relaxed slightly at Blake’s voice - she collapsed against the pillows in a sitting position, eyes wide and shadows stamped under her lids. Her hand was trembling, shaking - Blake rubbed her thumb against the skin, slowly, trying to soothe her.

“Blake,” she gasped, voice soft and weak. “Blake - Blake, they took - my - it’s  _ gone  _ -”

“I know,” Blake whispered back. Yang’s shoulders were shaking - Blake reached out and awkwardly climbed onto the sheets, fitting herself between Yang and the bedrest. “I know, I’m sorry, Yang - I’m sorry, love -”

Yang looked so close to breaking - vulnerable and shattered in a way that pulled Blake closer, wrapping her arms around the other girl’s shoulders, pulling her closer, resting her chin on Yang’s hair, Yang burying her face in the juncture of Blake’s neck and shoulder. 

Blake held Yang as she cried, holding her close as Yang clung onto Blake’s shirt, her hair, stroked Yang’s locks and cradled her and rocked back and forth and murmured soft words, scraps of poetry she had read ages ago, of lavender and honey and strange skies and faraway castles and burning fireplaces. She kept whispering, and it turned to softer words, promises of love and affection and devotion, until Yang’s gasps uncrumpled and calmed. 

Yang’s eyes were fluttering shut, breathing slowing into drowsiness, and Blake cupped her cheek tenderly, holding the other girl carefully.

“I love you, Yang Xiao Long,” she promised gently, and curled around Yang as they both fell asleep.

-

“She’ll be fine,” Weiss murmured to Blake.

“I know.” Blake’s hand was hovering near her side - an unconscious gesture, above her scar. It was a slash of pinkish-red, above her hip, slightly raised. She’d hated it at first, but had grown to accept the mark, the memory. 

Weiss and Ruby had filled her in on what happened that afternoon.  _ “The roof had collapsed on you,” Ruby had said, eyes wide and pained. “It allowed us to get through to you - but we were almost too late -” she subsided, voice nearly breaking. _

_ “Yang pushed you out of the way of the debris,” Weiss had continued carefully, softly. “You both were unconscious, but Yang was in critical condition - one of her arms was caught under the rubble - it was crushed. There was no way for her to keep the limb… we had to -” she swallowed, her words catching. “Amputate.” _

_ Blake had felt distant at the words, a weary sort of wailing in the back of her mind.  _ My fault, my fault,  _ she cried in her head, but it was overridden with a deep ache for Yang, the desire to make  _ her  _ pain go away, hold her hand, stay with her. _

“I don’t know what will happen next,” she said half-aloud, nearly thinking to herself.

Weiss turned around at that, her face weary and somber. “You should stay with us,” she told Blake, and though it wasn’t phrased as an order, Blake felt the strength in her statement. Weiss didn’t say things for no reason - everything had a meaning, no matter how simple. 

Blake nodded. “I am,” she replied.

Ruby was leading Yang quietly out the hospital, murmuring gently to her - Yang was just nodding, face drawn and pale. She looked fatigued, exhausted - barely responding to Ruby’s encouragement, only giving a faint grin when she neared Blake and Weiss.

“Time to go back home,” Ruby said, smiling cheerfully - although it didn’t reach her eyes, silver and bittersweet. 

“Home,” Yang repeated, head lifting the slightest. Something crept into her eyes - warming it in the slightest motion, sunlight breaking through the clouds. 

Blake stepped forward and laid a hand gently on Yang’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything, but Yang leaned into her touch, and she supported her as they headed home.

_ Home. _

-

There was a sudden, quick knock at the door.

Blake looked up from where she was standing by the kitchen - she carefully placed her cup of tea on the counter as to not spill the steaming liquid - and started towards the door.

“I got it,” Yang said quietly, already moving from her seat on the couch.

Blake hesitated - but only for a moment. She leaned against the counter and quietly stirred sugar into her cup, letting Yang take her time in opening the door, her movements clumsy but warming up slowly. 

Finally, Yang dropped a square box on the table and collapsed with relief onto the couch. “Package,” she called to Blake. “From the hospital.”

Blake came over, carefully holding her cup. “Do you want to wait until Weiss and Ruby come back to open it, or just see what it is now?”

Yang shrugged, grinning faintly. “Why not take a peek?” She reached for the lid, slowly peeled off the tape - Blake sat quietly, waiting as Yang carefully lifted the lid and pulled away the tissue paper.

Her face fell suddenly - smile dropping, her previous lightheartedness fading. Blake leaned over, quieting the irrational spike of terror - and saw the prosthetic arm nestled in the cushioning. 

“Oh.” She turned to Yang, who was watching the limb, face settling gray as ash. “Did… do you…?”

Yang stood up abruptly. “I don’t,” she said shortly, stormy and clenched. She headed upstairs, hand shaking slightly. Blake only paused a second - the light glinting off the prosthetic sharply, nearly mockingly - and got up to follow Yang.

She went up the stairs, walked down the hall to Yang’s room. Carefully heading through the door, she found Yang hunched on the edge of her bed, looking down at her hand.

Quietly, Blake shut the door and seated herself behind the taller girl - she reached for the hairbrush lying on the nightstand beside the bed and started combing out Yang’s hair - carefully, as to not pull too hard. Methodically working out the knots and kinks, she felt Yang loosen under her touch, and gently brushed her fingers across the back other girl’s neck.

Yang let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she murmured, her hand clenching in the sheets. Blake continued brushing silently, dragging her hands through the rich gold of Yang’s locks, gently smoothing them out. “It can’t replace what I lost, and I know that.” She shrugged her shoulders, a short, sharp gesture. “I’ve gotten used to this - this is my life, now. But I don’t know if I can do this - here’s something that’s turned up at my door, asking me - to  _ move on.” _

Blake carefully set down the hairbrush and was silent for a moment, turning the words over in her mind. She locked her arms around Yang’s waist, leaned to rest her chin on her shoulder. Yang’s hair brushed her cheek, soft and thick and wild.

“Normal is what we make of it,” she said softly, tangling her fingers with Yang’s. “I know it may seem impossible now, and it  _ is  _ \- you’ve gone through so much, but you’re so  _ strong  _ \- Yang Xiao Long, you’re the bravest girl I know. You’re the brightest flame in the room and each day I wake up and cherish your presence in my life - did you know,” she continued, breathing steadily - Yang turned her head slightly so that her cheek was resting against Blake’s, eyes half-closed - “That when I first saw you, your smile blinded me? I looked up at you and I couldn’t see anything else except your strong heart and spirit, and I’ve thought of nothing else.

“I know it may seem impossible now,” she whispered softly, as gently as she could. “But I  _ love  _ you, love your strength and beauty and your  _ heart  _ \- you were beautiful then and you’re beautiful  _ now,  _ and if anyone has the strength to live and love, it’s  _ you. _ ”

Yang’s breathing had slowed, steadied, a faint ghost of wind across Blake’s lips. She buried her face in the crown of Blake’s hair, breathing deep. “Blake Belladonna,” she said, muffled.

Blake leaned against Yang, holding her. “It’s going to be all right,” she promised, gently. “I’m with you.”

-

It was almost noon, the sun overhead. It warmed Blake’s bones as she reached the door, swiftly unlocked it, stepped inside.

“Ghira and Kali send their best wishes,” she called as she kicked off her boots in the doorway. “Ruby’s helping Weiss sort out some legal stuff - they’re somewhere in the city… Yang?”

There was no answer from the house, the lights dark and still. Frowning, Blake went upstairs, checking the rooms. Still curtains and neatly folded blankets met her.

“Yang?” She couldn’t keep the panic from rising in her voice - pushing it down, she pounded down the steps, out the door. Gravel stung her bare feet as Blake rounded the corner, a steadily rising pounding growing in her ears - and stopped as she saw a streak of gold hair in the shed.

She blew out a breath, tamping down the roiling anxiety in her chest.  _ In, out, in,  _ Blake repeated to herself.

Blake walked over to the shed, wincing as the rocks dug into the soles of her feet - she wished she’d thought more rationally, brought shoes instead of reacting instinctually. She approached Yang, who was working in the run-down shed where her motorcycle was kept.

Yang turned around as Blake approached, a cheery grin on her face. It reminded Blake of the one that Yang wore when she first saw her - a sliver of sunlight in a mirthful face. A streak of yellow paint was crowning her forehead - her fingers were also stained with the bright color. “Hey,” she greeted.

Blake felt her lips curving up despite her earlier scare. “Hey,” she replied, dropping down to sit on the worn floorboards. “I was worried - I didn’t know where you were.”

Yang’s face shifted, concern and sheepishness softening her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking contrite. “I rushed out - next time I’ll leave a note.”

“All right.” Blake peered at Yang’s hands, the splashes of bright paint. Sunflower, honey, gold. “What are you doing out here?”

Yang beamed at that, turning to reveal what she was working on. Blake felt her breath catch as she saw Yang’s  _ prosthetic,  _ lying on the boards, stark gold and ebony. Cans of paint, each the respective colors, were stacked neatly next to the prosthetic.

Blake stood, carefully, ran her fingers along the prosthetic. Her fingertips came back smudged with yellow paint - not enough to smear the coating, but enough to leave residue on her hand. “Yang,” she breathed.

Yang shuffled her feet. “This is for you,” she said softly, touching Blake’s shoulder. “You’re the reason why I’m still here - why I’m choosing this.”

Blake threw her arms around Yang, pulling her in close. She was laughing, and so was Yang - a symphony of candlelight and dandelions and bright hues. As she drew away, Yang planted a kiss on Blake’s forehead - fleeting, soft.

“You helped me believe in myself again,” she whispered, and Blake closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth.

-

“I can’t believe you’re  _ leaving  _ me,” Ruby said, scandalized.

Yang laughed, affectionately ruffling her younger sister’s hair. “We’re literally going to be a few minutes away,” she grinned. “And for that, you’re going to have to help us load the boxes.”

“Ugh.” Weiss sniffed. “Manual labor.” 

“This is your congratulations for graduating high school,” Blake teased gently, carrying a box haphazardly titled  _ blake’s fairytales - don’t touch  _ through the door. “You’re going to have to learn how to move stuff if you want to go to college and room with someone.”

“I already found a place,” Weiss threw back, throwing a desk into the back of the pickup truck. “I’m staying with Ruby.”

“She gets your old room,” Ruby said gleefully to Yang, “Because you’re  _ moving. _ ”

Yang stuck her tongue out at Ruby. Blake laughed.

“We needed somewhere closer to the city,” Yang explained patiently, “So Blake can work on her project without having to drive back and forth to the freakin’ countryside.”

“This is  _ not  _ the countryside,” Weiss muttered. “This is a  _ neighborhood. _ ”

Yang waved her hand in the air. “There’s a forest practically in our backyard. It’s the countryside.”

“I thought countryside was more farmland,” Blake said mildly, smoothing out a folded pile of sheets. “You know, cows.”

“I’m shocked,” Yang declared dramatically. “Blake, you’re supposed to back me up!”

“Three versus one,” Ruby announced. “We win!”

Yang shook her head. “Just you wait,” she said threateningly, pointing at Ruby. “Just because I don’t live with you anymore doesn’t mean I will stay away from your cookie stash.”

A yelp from Ruby, and bright laughter from Yang.

When they were done arranging boxes in the back of the truck, Ruby pulled Blake aside. “I know you love her,” she said simply, matter-of-fact. It wasn’t in the way Weiss would have said it - Ruby said things like they were gifts, small wonders, while Weiss spoke her words like they were advice, past moments. “Take care of her, will you?”

“I will,” Blake promised, voice thick, and Ruby smiled before pulling Blake into a fierce hug.

“Blake,” Yang called, grinning widely. “Once I’m done telling Weiss how to take care of my room, let’s get going!”

“All right.” Blake shook her head fondly at the blonde-haired girl. “Don’t harass Weiss.”

“I can take it,” Weiss said icily, but her eyes were laughing. “Good luck managing her, Blake.”

Blake smiled while Yang gave two affirmative thumbs-up and a wink. “Wouldn’t dream of making things easy,” Yang laughed, eyes glinting.

Blake thinks back years ago, and is grateful for her new-found family, red and white - and especially gold.

-

It was a long day at work, and Blake is exhausted.

She barely made it to the door, opened it and stumbled through. She was met with dusky, dim light and a delicious smell wafting through the air - she followed it to the main room, where the TV was flickering. Yang was curled on the couch, her prosthetic gleaming dully from the coffee table.

“Hey,” she greeted Blake, eyes soft in the faint light. She tilted her head towards the table, where takeout boxes were littered on the surface. “I got takeout for dinner. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m starving,” Blake said fervently. “I’ll eat anything.”

“You look tired,” Yang noted, and Blake simply nodded before taking a box and shoving two whole dumplings in her mouth. “Hard day at work today?”

Blake nodded, feeling herself relax in Yang’s presence, their warm home, the food. “Mm,” she replied. “Today was a protester day - it’s hard, advocating for the regrowth of a community from a terrorist group you were once -” she shook her head, slowly tasting the words - “part of.”

“Were you safe?” Yang asked softly, sitting up. 

“Yeah.” Blake shrugged tiredly. “Just difficult.”

“Hey.” Yang extended her hand and Blake immediately went over, curling herself over Yang’s body like a cat. Yang wrapped her arm around Blake, stroking her hair carefully. “You’re doing something great, here. You can do this.”

“You’re stealing my words,” Blake replied, her words slurred with sleep. She was already drifting off - Yang was  _ warm,  _ radiating heat, and Blake was soft and pliable and comfortable here, draped over Yang in their apartment with takeout on the table and the TV glowing from the corner of the room.

Yang laughed softly, breath stirring Blake’s hair. “Yeah, Beauty.”

“Goldilocks,” Blake returned, drowsy.

“Mm,” Yang replied, and tilted Blake’s chin up gently. She met her halfway and their lips met, soft and chaste and delicate. Still, the touch traveled through Blake, warming her - if she could’ve turned to gold in that moment, she would have.

“You know I love you,” Blake murmured to Yang.

“Yeah,” Yang breathed back. She tangled her hand in Blake’s hair, pressed soft kisses to her nose, her forehead, the curve of her cheeks.They were curled together, interlocked.  “I love you, Blake.”

Blake smiled faintly. “Promise?” she asked.

Yang rested her cheek against the top of Blake’s head. “Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap, folks!! thank you all for staying with me as i finished this; you've been the ones that have kept me going!
> 
> keep your eyes out for a road trip fic... by yours truly...
> 
> my tumblr can be found [here](https://amaranthskies-writes.tumblr.com). come yell at me or chat or ask questions, please!!


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